Train Wreck
by Mad Shelley
Summary: Everything was going well for Sarah, until the train wreck. Jareth thinks Sarah is dead, and has pushed her memory out of his thoughts. Someone Jareth knows well has brought her to the Underground to heal, and he isn't happy about it when he finds out...or is he? JXS eventually.
1. Runaway Train Never Going Back

**Disclaimer:** (one-time only) Of course I don't own it; if time equates to $$$, I'm actually _spending_ money on it…

 **A/N:** From this point on, A/Ns will appear at the end of a chapter. If any Betas are interested, please pm; I'm sure I need one .

Warning for fans of fluffy-bunny, sunshine-love Jareth – he won't be making an appearance. The other Jareth will. Let the games begin….

* * *

" **Toby,** _wait!_ " urged Sarah, as she made her way down the aisle of the dining car, balancing herself against the motion of the train. Toby had bounded to the door and pushed the release before she could stop him, darting through the connector to the next car. "Dammit," she whispered under her breath, trying to keep from offending other diners. When she finally got to Karen and Toby's "bedroom" roomette, Toby was already lying on the fold-down bed, listening to music through his earbuds. She pointed at him and grimaced. The blond, curly-headed boy grinned at her, made an "L" shape with this right hand, and brought it up to his forehead.

Sarah just shook her head and laughed under her breath She would get him back….when he _least_ expected it. She mused at how cheeky he'd become since he'd turned twelve. The tiresome, whiny little boy had become more independent and much less…. _irritating_. Well, at least sometimes. Their newest game was to try to "one-up" each other in nearly everything. Sarah usually thought it hysterical, except when the games endangered his safety or he chose to "one-up" her at an inappropriate moment. She was positive that boys his age did not consider any moment "inappropriate" when it came to embarrassing someone else. A particularly unsavory incident involving a noodle came to mind.

Karen was sitting at the window, engrossed in a book. "Did you guys have a good lunch?" she asked, not looking up from her reading. "It was train food," replied Sarah. "Toby had a burger. I had a salad."

"That's nice," replied Karen, eyes-down in the story.

Sarah had agreed to spend her break with the family in the Keys. She only had a week and a half off from her Master's studies and internship, and figured that she'd probably not be able to afford to go on any type of vacation for a few years anyway. Of course, she knew _why_ her father and Karen had invited her – it's why she was always invited, to be the unofficial babysitter. It wasn't as bad now that Toby was older; sometimes, it was actually kind of fun when he wasn't being a dweeby, brooding teenager. They had even paid for her to have a tiny roomette on the train so she could actually sleep in peace and have a little privacy. Of course, Karen and Toby had an actual bedroom with a chair and bathroom. Her father was flying down to meet them the day after they arrived.

Sarah had never understood why Karen didn't just suck it up and take a Xanax or something to deal with her fear of flying. All she would have to do is sleep, relax, and Sarah could take care of the details….and be out on the ocean diving instead of wasting a day on the train. _Oh well, it's paid for._ "I'm going back to my room to relax for about an hour, and then Toby and I can hang out for a while," she announced, tousling his hair as she turned towards the door of the small compartment. Karen just nodded as Sarah left. She had to admit that the motion of the train was quite calming. She was actually looking forward to sleeping on one again, remembering how the predictable, rocking motion helped her to drift off.

Sarah plopped down into the small seat in her roomette, slid the door shut, and pulled the curtain, glad for a few moments of peace. She sat on the side facing forward to get as far away as possible from the small toilet that was built into the side wall, already planning to sleep in the top berth to get even farther from it. At least she had her own toilet. She pried off her shoes and threw her feet onto the seat facing her, reaching into her travel bag for the single-serving wine she'd brought. After all, it was the beginning of her well-deserved break, even if it was as a glorified babysitter. Sarah set the small bottle in the cup holder against the window, as she twisted her hair into make-do ponytail, and sank back into the seat, watching the eastern half of the country go by. She had recognized D.C. while they were in the dining car, especially as they left it behind, passing over the river.

Small towns, fields, and forests continued to pass by as she sank into a relaxed state and decompressed from the past few months. Defending her research on bloodborne pathogens had been grueling – she'd spent countless hours in the lab, on the subscription databases in the library, emailing and calling experts and professionals around the world. And now, she would just have to wait until they posted the results. She turned up the bottle. _And then, publishing.._ She broke into a self-satisfied smile as she placed the bottle back into the cup holder. It was _almost_ worth the blood, sweat, and tears she'd poured into the past three years; along with the social life she'd sacrificed, and the most serious relationship she'd ever been in.

Outside the train window, a picturesque forest scene was passing by, a lake shining off in the distance. It reminded her of the lake at the park where she would play when she was younger. She remembered that she could just see the glint of the sun off of the lake from her bedroom window on winter days….which of course, led to memories of wishing away a certain stepbrother….. She laughed softly to herself, closing her eyes for a moment and basking in the late afternoon sun beaming warmly through the windows.

From the vantage point of a twenty-five year-old, the whole ordeal in the Labyrinth seemed like an impossible adolescent drama and hormone-fueled dream, though she knew it hadn't been. It had been the most amazing adventure of her life. It, or _he,_ had also been the reason she'd lost interest in following her mother into an acting career, and had decided to pursue the sciences. Science was something she could touch, feel, explain, and manipulate. Her memories of the Goblin King were somewhat fuzzy, but the details she _did_ remember caused her only slight nervousness, and more than a little fascination…though she seemed to remember that his wardrobe bordered on the shameless side of ridiculous, and his pants were tight…very tight. "From the sublime to the ridiculous is but a …..step," she recited, quietly laughing at the irony of Napoleon's words.

Sarah opened her eyes and half-closed the window curtain, suddenly feeling the full of heat of the sun through the window. _Childish things….and probably a figment of my overactive imagination and perceived martyr complex at the time._ She leaned back in the seat again and pointed her toes as she stretched her legs. "I'm free," she thought, green eyes sparkling in the filtered sunlight, pink lips curving into a euphoric smile. _At least for a week anyway…_ Between the wine and the sun, she began to feel slightly drowsy, nodding off as she watched the world go by and daydreamed about scuba diving the reefs off Key Largo.

One of the last things Sarah remembered before descending into silent darkness was hearing a loud explosion, and being flung violently against the train by an unseen force. The very last thing she remembered from that moment was reaching out with the only arm she could move and feeling intense heat on her face as she grasped at nothing and screamed in hopeless horror, "Toby!"


	2. Full of Broken Thoughts I Cannot Repair

**A/N:** I know I said no A/Ns until the end of a chapter, but I already feel the heat of the flames coming my way. Note: Toby and Sarah do _not_ die. So relax…enjoy…read…review.

* * *

The news reporter droned on about when the derailment had occurred, how fast the train had been going, what the event data recorder revealed, and a hundred other details that Robert Williams filed away in the back of his mind for later use. Images of the same twisted metal, burned and overturned cars, and dazed survivors that he'd seen in the last five news reports flashed in front of him - a young boy clinging to his mother, an elderly couple sitting on the ground looking dazed and in shock, a woman with bruises on her face and arms hugging herself, face distorted in a mask of tears and pain. But his family was not among them. Robert had been to the site shortly after the crash. He had seen the destruction first hand. It had been worse than the news footage – much worse. He threw back another shot of whiskey and ran a hand through his already-disheveled hair, turning back to the decanter. A tractor trailer had stalled on the tracks. The driver was killed instantly. _How is that fair?_ _Who is to blame?_

Karen was gone. Sarah was in an ICU in Virginia, barely alive and heavily sedated. He had stared at her pitiful, lacerated body, hardly resembling his beautiful daughter, as she lay besieged with machines and IV bags. Her flawless fair skin was marred by cuts and bruises on every visible part of her body. A long, angry-looking, red gash marked her face from the top of her left temple to the side of her mouth. The list of injuries had been long and daunting – a punctured lung, various internal wounds, slight brain swelling, broken ribs, a fractured femur, second-degree burns...he couldn't remember them all. The doctor had been professional and blunt – Sarah would face a long, painful recovery, if she survived.

And Toby….they hadn't found him. Robert had spent the entire night and most of the day searching where they would allow him around the crash site. After retching into the tall grass by the tracks upon seeing the destruction, he'd scoured the wreckage from a distance – the authorities would only allow him to get to a certain point before they pushed him back. And so he'd waited and tried again when they were distracted. He'd found Toby's battered blue suitcase, and what he believed to be Karen's book, burned and torn. Eventually, it was too dark to see, and they'd forced him to leave.

 _Toby could still be alive, unconscious somewhere. He could still be alive._ Robert sat heavily on the couch in his den, pressed the cool glass to his forehead, and closed his eyes. His family was gone in an instant. At least he still had Sarah. "Please, God, let Sarah live," he rasped. After identifying Karen and being updated on Sarah's condition, he'd flown back to make arrangements and get some clothes for himself and Toby, and a couple of Sarah's things that he knew meant a great deal to her….probably just a helpless gesture on his part. _Didn't they monitor those crossings? They should have cameras at all crossings that the engineer should have to check on approach._

His poor Karen – his last chance at love. His last chance at happiness. First the disappointment of Linda leaving him and their daughter; now, the horror of having to identify his wife and raise their son alone… _Karen, I promise, I will find him and take care of him. He will never forget you. I will never forget you, love._

A seasoned attorney, Robert analyzed the situation, intent on identifying the person or organization that should pay the price, bear the blame, be the blood and money sacrifice to satisfy his overwhelming grief and rage. _Had some lazy mechanic missed a faulty part when servicing the truck? Was the train going too fast for conditions? Had there been incidents at that crossing previously? Did the train company have prior knowledge that it was a dangerous crossing?_ ….He dropped the glass and sobbed into his hands.

He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder as he looked up at his sister. "Robert, we need to get to the airport." He had no idea what he would have done without Liv.

* * *

 _Beep…beep…beep…_

Sarah was in a sunny field of golden grass, the bright sun caressing her face and arms. She didn't recognize the place – and the beeping - what _was_ that? It was driving her insane. She turned in a complete circle, looking for someone or something that could provide an explanation. There was nothing but field.

 _Beep_ … _beep…beep…_

 _Am I dreaming? Is that an alarm clock? Are we in the Keys?_ Sarah felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of getting out on the ocean. She'd bought some "new" used diving gear for the occasion. _What in bloody hell was making that beeping sound?_ She began to turn around and search for the source again when Karen suddenly appeared in front of her, smiling benignly. Sarah gasped, startled by the sudden presence where there had been nothing only seconds earlier. "Karen!" she exclaimed, instinctively clutching her chest in surprise. "You startled me." She absently registered that Karen looked perfectly put together as always, and was wearing an outfit that different from the one she'd worn on the train.

Karen smiled reassuringly. "It's okay, love." Sarah's brow furrowed. When had Karen _ever_ called her "love?" The woman must have spent too much time on HMS Cabernet Sauvignon – and why wasn't her head buried in a romance novel? Sure, they got along, but _love?_ The closest Karen had ever come to a term of endearment where Sarah was concerned was "sweetie," and that was only when Sarah had been exponentially upset about something – a thoughtless boyfriend, a car that kept breaking down, a lecherous professor, an unfair grade.

Her stepmother laid a hand on Sarah's arm. "Don't worry about the noise. Your father and I will take care of it." This was too weird. Karen was rarely soothing. _What was she talking about? Did she mean they would take care of the alarm and she should sleep? Hadn't they just been on the train?_ Sarah shook her head slightly to shake off the mental fuzziness. She couldn't remember getting off the train. Karen's hand was still on her arm, almost as if she didn't want to let go. "Sarah," she implored. "What is it, Karen?" Sarah responded, still completely confused by her surroundings and Karen's sudden appearance.

"Please," Karen almost begged, tightening her grip on Sarah's arm. Sarah winced. This was too weird. "Please Sarah – take care of Toby." Sarah glanced at Karen incredulously. Of course she would take care of Toby. She didn't intend on leaving his side when they were snorkeling, and wouldn't dare allow him to dive yet. "Of course," she croaked in response, still unsure of what was going on. Karen seemed to relax. "Thank you, Sarah," she exhaled, eyes full of gratitude. Sarah was about to reply when her eyelids suddenly felt so heavy, she knew she couldn't force them to stay open. There was so much she wanted to ask Karen. Were they still on the train? Had her father arrived? Her lids closed heavily as she sank back into darkness. "Karen?" she whispered. Sarah felt a disturbing, uneasy, "sinking" feeling that something was horribly wrong. Suddenly, reality was crashing in unrelenting waves through her memory. _Explosion. Impact. Heat. Fear_. _Darkness_. _Toby!_

She had to find Toby – he had to be okay. She couldn't let anything happen to him again. _Again? How had she lost him before?_ She struggled to remember. Her father and Karen trusted her to look after him. In desperation, her mind reached back to the last time she'd been frantic to find her baby brother. How had she found him then? There had been stone walls stretching for miles…someone had helped her. Who had helped her? Could they help her again?

The ICU nurse who was changing out the IV bag glanced worriedly at Sarah when she heard a strangled plea coming from the young woman's cracked lips. "Hoggle!"

* * *

The smell of earthy forest and sweet summer blossoms hung in the air as the dwarf attended to the topiaries in the Labyrinth with an air of contentment. It was his favorite time of year. The smells of late summer reminded him of the adventures and happier times of his youth. The ladder wobbled slightly below him as his stout frame stretched to clip a wayward twig. "Nice, trimmed plant; rotten misbehavin' twig," his gravelly voice mused, finally reaching his goal and snipping the offending stem. Hoggle looked over the row of plants he'd been working on in satisfaction. They were clipped to resemble animals, geometric shapes, anything that struck the king's fancy. Although, there was one topiary, impossibly clipped to resemble the King's visage that he didn't dare touch for fear of damaging it and incurring his Majesty's wrath.

Hoggle would never admit it, but he enjoyed tending the Labyrinth. Having no children or family of his own, he felt a somewhat paternal pride at keeping the magical life-size puzzle ready to receive the hapless victims of His Majesty's games, nobility, impromptu parties, or anything else its king could throw at it. He also prided himself in his knowledge of its twists and turns, riddles and dead ends, and forbidding oubliettes.

He hummed as he secured the shears over his shoulder and awkwardly began to descend the ladder. "There just ain't no end to the work around here," he proclaimed as he reached the bottom rung. Suddenly, his vision became blurry as he felt the earth tremble around him and heard his name ringing in his ears, spoken in a tremulous female voice almost forgotten. " _Hoggle.."_

The dwarf yelped and dove behind the large stone pot housing the topiary he'd been clipping. After a moment's silence, he tentatively peeked over the pot, plump fingers gripping the rim. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Of course, the words "ordinary" and "Labyrinth" really should never coexist in the same thought. He shivered as he remembered the owner of the voice. "Sarah," he breathed in shock. A memory tugged at the recesses of his mind. _"Why did you say I was your friend?"…."Because you are."_

Hoggle's round eyes widened as he remembered the girl, one of his only friends…but it had been at least twenty seasons since she had called on him. _Could it really be her?_ He realized the trembling was within him and not coming from the Labyrinth or the land. _Was Sarah in trouble?_ Hoggle knew that he was not intrinsically brave – it was a fault of his species. He also knew he was somewhat… _intimidated_ when it came to His Majesty's bullying and commanding nature. But there was one person, one being, who inspired him to overcome his weaknesses - the human girl Sarah.

Hoggle flung the shears aside and hobbled quickly down the twisting paths of the Labyrinth to the place where he, Didymus, and Ludo had visited with her in the mirror all those years ago. "I'm comin', Sarah!"

* * *

Robert wandered into his daughter's old room one more time before leaving for the airport to return to the hospital. He'd wandered in and out of his children's rooms all morning, hands shoved in his pockets, no discernable expression on his face. He didn't know why he kept shuffling back and forth between their rooms. It frustrated him. After he'd had a quick shower and changed, he and Liv had loaded the luggage in her car. In his mission to lock the door, he'd feigned that he'd forgotten something – and had suddenly found himself back in her childhood room, staring blankly at the posters, stuffed animals, dusty nick-knacks, and pictures of Sarah with her friends posted haphazardly on a bulletin board over her desk.

He had already retrieved some items from her efficiency apartment near the university. What was he looking for? His gaze came to rest on the small, red, leather-bound book on her old vanity. A slight smile replaced his dead expression as he recalled how Sarah had kept the book with her constantly, endlessly reciting the lines of one of the characters with great bravado. Robert clutched the book with both hands as he relived the fond memory. For the most part, he'd vacillated between heated rage and debilitating sadness, or feeling completely numb. What he didn't know was that his holding the book and his association with Sarah allowed a long-forgotten portal to open.

"Robert…" His sister's voice pulled him back to the present. "We need to go to her. I know it's hard. She needs you there."

Robert sighed heavily, deciding he would bring the book. "Liv," he choked back a sob. "She doesn't even look like Sarah. The cuts, the burns – all of those _tubes_ … I don't know if I can face it without breaking down." Liv set her jaw and walked around Robert to face him. At that moment, he was her little brother – standing up to the neighborhood bully, losing his first girlfriend, dealing with the nervousness of his first mock trial. She grasped his shoulders firmly. "You _can_ and you _will_ , Robert Williams. You are not a quitter. I will be with you, and you will get through this. You have to hang in there for Sarah and Toby…and Karen." Liv gently but resolutely turned Robert toward the door and guided him down the hallway, suppressing her own feelings of extreme sadness and helplessness to be strong for her brother.

The dwarf could not see the humans, but he could hear them. He assumed that the man was Sarah's father. Hoggle winced at the mirror in the Labyrinth as he heard the humans discussing her condition. "Sarah," he moaned, fuzzy brows drooping in despair. He had to do something. Who could help? It would have to be someone with magic - someone who could go to the human dimension.

 **A/N:** Props to those who reviewed, followed, or favorited!

Props to tooralooryeaye and StaticMissi for the corrections and suggestions. Apologies to those who are following and received multiple alerts. The site's been acting wonky tonight and kept losing the formatting.


	3. The Deal I'm Making

**Do You Want to Hear About the Deal I'm Making?**

 _Kate Bush, "Running Up That Hill"_

* * *

Hoggle approached the guard house with trepidation, determined to look as if he was on an important mission. Most goblins were rubbish at detecting subterfuge. He'd decided that he would have to swallow his pride and let Jareth know about Sarah. Sarah had told him, Sir Didymus, and Ludo about her last meeting with the Goblin King and what he'd offered her. After giving his heart to the girl, surely he wouldn't let her die. _At least, it had sounded as if the king had offered his heart offered his heart – hard to tell with fae._ Hoggle tried desperately to convince himself that Jareth wouldn't let her die. Although….she _had_ flatly refused him along with destroying a fifth of the Goblin City and part of the castle wall. Hoggle shook his head at the thought of what he was about to do. It was a terrible idea.

When the guard approached, the dwarf bowed slightly and asked, "And how is your family these days, Sir Slugwart?" The mid-sized goblin cocked its warty green head, tall helmet slipping slightly, and responded with a disinterested "Hmmph! What do you want, _gardener?_ " Hoggle straightened himself and quelled the anger bubbling at the surface of his thoughts. He was _not_ a simple gardener. He was the keeper of His Majesty's Labyrinth. "I needs speak with His Majesty concernin' a matter in the Labyrinth," he stated importantly, hoping to be directed to Jareth before he'd had enough of the goblin guard. He imagined himself kicking dust on the goblin's shiny helmet and explaining just how important the job of Keeper of the Labyrinth was to the entire kingdom. But this wasn't about him – it was about Sarah. _Saving_ Sarah, his friend.

The goblin snorted and motioned to his left with his spear. "He checks the work on the new wall," he spat, turning to resume his post in the new guard house. The goblin knights had been insufferable since Jareth had elevated their status after Sarah left. They had more power than ever, were increasingly violent and dismissive, and just generally unpleasant. Hoggle managed a fake, obsequious smile, thanked the guard, and hurried down the length of the castle wall in the direction indicated by the goblin knight. He very much preferred the brainless, often humorous goblins Jareth surrounded himself with for his personal amusement.

Hoggle stopped to catch his breath as he approached the end of the wall, and heard the tell-tell indicators of His Majesty's state of mind from around the next bend. "The spikes should be longer on each end of the wall, and the carved faces should be much more…. _menacing_ ,"the regal voice commanded. Everyone remembered how their king had ordered the old wall to be destroyed in a fit of rage, demanding that a new rampart be built with deadly spikes and impossibly thick rock walls.

Hoggle heard what he was sure was one of the humans groaning in frustration, muttering about the "stupid girl" and the extra work she'd caused. He heard the unmistakable sound of body slapping against stone and Jareth's voice hissing, " _What_ did you say?" Hoggle then heard clawing and kicking against stone, assuming the worker was attempting to gain some control over his situation. "I – I merely said that the girl was unwise to act as she did," the human voice sputtered. The sound of something being roughly dumped on the dirt path by the wall immediately followed. "Good," Jareth remarked with finality. "Execute the wishes of your King, or you may find _yourself_ executed – or bogged. Depends on the quality of your work." He heard what he assumed were Jareth's boots turning, and then heard his voice smugly pronounce, "And that, my boy, is how you deal with belligerent, lazy workers."

Hoggle slowly peered around the corner of the wall, taking great care not to be seen. He saw the scrawny human crouching dejectedly in the dirt path, backed up against the stone wall, wide eyes focused on the Goblin King that loomed above him. The dwarf could only see the back of the fae monarch, though what he'd heard and seen had given him a fair amount of information about what he was walking into. Jareth's boots were firmly planted directly in front of the human. His arms were obviously crossed. Hoggle didn't even need to see the king's face to know that his bizarre, hypnotic eyes were narrowed in irritation, piercing the unfortunate human with his unsettling gaze. He would be staring down his nose, his thin lips pursed severely, phallic message displayed directly in front of the human's face. The dwarf had been the recipient of that gaze quite enough in his time. When Jareth forewent smirking instigation for menacing anger, the consequences for displeasing His Majesty usually became much more perilous. At Jareth's side stood a young male dressed in breeches and boots that resembled Jareth's, though an opulent, gold-embroidered green doublet covered his billowy shirt. Hoggle did not recognize the young male, though he assumed he was one of the spoiled fae courtiers. The boy had an uncanny resemblance to Jareth with his shock of blond hair and his confident, straight-backed stance.

Hoggle ducked back around the bend and hung his head. He couldn't just give her up into Jareth's hands, especially in her helpless state. He'd done that before, and regretted the outcome. The king's voice rang over the wall once more in agitation. "What is it?" he snapped. The voice of a familiar messenger responded. "Her Majesty has arrived and will join you for the evening meal to discuss the urgent matter at hand." There was a brief silence, and the now calmer voice of the Goblin King replied, "Tell Her Majesty I look forward to dining with her and to our discussion." And then a curt, "As you were." Hoggle heard the king's footsteps receding down the dirt path in the opposite direction, and let out a relieved breath.

The dwarf wrinkled his brow in confusion. He was usually informed when there was a state visit. A realization dawned on the dwarf and he looked upward, feeling a small glimmer of hope. The Queen was here. Jareth's sister – Maeve. Hoggle recalled his memories of Maeve before she had become Queen of the Sidhe. She had been the one to enlighten him as to the explanation for why His Majesty could never see to remember his name correctly. As queens went, she was legend. No fae could really be trusted, or considered to be compassionate. She had always been capricious, but she was also known to have a severe sense of justice and fairness. _Unlike her rat brother._

Maybe Maeve would help. He realized he had not enjoyed any familiarity with her since she'd become queen. That had been hundreds of years ago. And this was not just Maeve – this was the Sidhe Queen. Her markings and coloring had even changed when she had been elevated to the title of her mother before her, bronze, gleaming locks darkening to a silky blue-black pitch, markings changes from dusky rose to silver and black, lips tinged with shocking blue, and those eyes. Terrifying. You could see them in the dark. Piercing blue. Hoggle turned back towards the guard house with a sigh of resignation. He would have to try. From the discussion he'd heard in the mirror, it sounded as if Sarah's condition was fragile. There wasn't time – he didn't even know what the difference in time was at that moment between the dimensions. He could have wasted several seconds, hours, or even days. Hoggle picked up his pace as he headed towards the castle entrance.

* * *

The Goblin Prince strode purposefully down the path beside the castle wall, determined to keep up with his long-legged benefactor. His memories of coming here were vague – he had an impression that he'd been angry and sad at first. He had to admit that generally, he felt at home here – like he'd been to the Goblin City and the Goblin Castle before, and had enjoyed it. Uncle Jareth had explained that his family had experienced a terrible tragedy and would no longer be able to care for him – that they would be grateful to know he was safe and being brought up as royalty.

The prince remembered that discussion very well. He'd never seen such sadness in someone's eyes as was reflected in the Goblin King's when they had sat face-to-face in front of the ridiculously large fireplace in his study. Over time, the sadness disappeared. His family must have meant a great deal to the king. The king had then explained that he was to be brought up as a prince of the kingdom, and would in time take on important duties upon proving himself. The king had called him "Tobias," though, for some reason, he didn't think that was the name he'd been called by his family. It just didn't _feel_ right.

The prince fingered the silky doublet as they walked down the path. "Important people clothes," he thought to himself. He'd had no complaints. The food was great, and the goblins were wicked fun. _Who knew goblins liked to be kicked?_ All of the goblins and servants were nice to him and called him "Young Prince." But there was just _something_ tugging at the back of his mind – it was just so hard to remember his family. There were impressions of faces – a kind woman's face with short, blond hair; a man who was firm, but smiled a great deal; and a young woman with long brown hair, green eyes, and a cheerful expression. He knew they had been important to him. He just couldn't remember how. _Were they dead?_ He'd been afraid to ask Uncle Jareth. Maybe one day….

* * *

Hoggle slumped against the wall of the antechamber to the guest rooms the queen was occupying. He had done his best to insist to the fae guard that it was urgent that he see Her Majesty about a matter of life or death that she would find of great interest. At first, he had been told curtly to come back on the following day, the willowy, dark fae staring down his aquiline nose at the dwarf as if he was a bizarre, disagreeable insect. Finally, after several bouts of bullying and taunting on the part of the guard, Hoggle had shouted that Her Majesty's interest may no longer exist on the following day, and the guard would be to blame. Reluctantly, the guard had disappeared into the chambers, reappearing momentarily to tell him to wait until the queen returned from the evening meal, and she would see him then. He'd been sitting on the cold stone floor for hours, when the door opened slightly and Hoggle was ushered unceremoniously into the sitting room of the guest chambers.

"Our Hoggle," the strong, clear, female voice pronounced as the ethereal being appeared from the adjoining room. "Is my brother treating you well?" The voice alone informed listeners that they were not in the presence of a weak entity. Maeve stood before Hoggle awaiting the customary show of respect. Hoggle dropped to his knees, bowing his head and uttering an awestruck, "Y – Your Majesty." Maeve laughed as she rested gracefully on the chaise in front of the fire, slipping off her sparkling, heels. The laugh reminded Hoggle of crystals clinking against each other. That hadn't changed.

"Oh Hoggle, a bow is all that's required. You and I have known each other for centuries, and I am tired. Let's not stand on formalities tonight." He noticed that she did not call him a friend as Sarah had. And rightly so. They were not friends. He _was_ a lowly gardener, and she was a queen. Hoggle removed his worn leather cap and began to fidget with it as he looked into her unsettling blue eyes and struggled for the words to explain. He thought it best to begin at the beginning – well, what he knew to be the beginning. The dwarf told the tale of Sarah's adventure in the Labyrinth, how she'd wished away her brother, how Jareth had taunted and beguiled her, what she'd said he'd offered, and then what he'd heard that very morning in the mirror.

At some point during his tale, the queen had slipped back against the chaise and closed her eyes. When he finished, he waited for her to respond. After all, one did not simply demand a response from the queen of the Sidhe. At the very moment that he was about to consider himself dismissed and give up any hope of helping Sarah, the queen's eyes flashed open and focused on him again. She slowly pushed herself back into a sitting position and a goblet appeared her in her hand. Taking a long, slow sip, she finally commented. "My, my, Hoggle, that _is_ an intriguing tale." Her silvery markings sparkled in the firelight, a fitting accompaniment to her glowing eyes. "I knew about the girl, of course. I remember Jareth's sulking about for years on end. I did _not_ know the other – details."

Her thin blue lips lost their pleasant expression as she pinned him with a knowing gaze. "What is it that you want from me?" Hoggle clutched his cap in desperation as he began his plea. "Well…uh..I was thinkin'. You know, you are a very fair and just queen. You was always fair. Sarah was brave with all that Jar – uh, His Majesty threw at her. I was thinkin' maybe you would find it in your heart to…heal her?" Hoggle looked down at the floor and held his breath. What in the name of the goddess was he doing? Every instinct within him urged him to flee and hide.

After it seemed like minutes had passed, he peeked up to see the queen gazing into the fire, slowly sipping from the goblet. Finally, she spoke, still staring into the dancing flames. "Let us be candid. I do not require a human. I am not a babysitter as the Goblin King is required to be. If she is near death, it will most likely be necessary for her to remain in the Underground for the rest of her life." She rested one arm on a bent knee as she cocked her head and regarded the dwarf. At that moment, Hoggle saw the younger Maeve – and a subtle hint of Jareth, truth be told. "In short, my dear Hoggle, what do I gain from granting your request?"

Hoggle had been ready for this. Fae rarely granted requests unless they received a direct benefit or were decidedly moved by the cause. He cleared his throat and met her eyes again. "Well, you knows how the Goblin King can be a trickster." The queen chuckled. Hobble continued, encouraged by her response. "The girl Sarah has always been a sore spot with His Highness. I mean no disrespect to the king, but it might benefit Your Highness to have the girl accessible as a - pawn, so to speak." His fuzzy brows lifted in hope as he awaited the queen's response.

Maeve gazed back into the fire as she drained the goblet. Her dark hair began coiling itself into an elegant circlet at the back of head, as she felt slightly heated after all of the wine she'd consumed. She considered Hoggle's words. They actually made sense. And goddess knows, she always relished an opportunity to possess any knowledge that she could hang over her arrogant brother's head. Sometimes, he did overstep the bounds…

"Hoggle, I will help the girl Sarah. _However,_ once she can care for herself, she will be your responsibility. As I stated, I have no use for another human at this time. I suggest you make arrangements to keep her well away from Jareth. Maeve inwardly smiled at the thought of Sarah living in the Goblin Kingdom under her brother's very nose – without his knowledge. Hoggle bowed in gratitude as Maeve conjured a crystal shard to locate Sarah and assess what had to be done. The austere ICU room came into view – the mess of a human form occupying the small bed in the middle of the curtained off section.

So, this was the girl – the girl whose very name could bring chaos to the Goblin City, the girl who had captivated and shamed the mighty Goblin King. The right side of Mab's thin, delicate, blue lips rose into a self-satisfied smirk as she studied the mortal subject in the crystal shard. How delicious. The mass of tubes and flesh on the small, unadorned bed hardly reflected the impression of the tempestuous, irresistible siren she'd imagined the girl to be upon hearing Hoggle's tale.

The dwarf wrung his pudgy, warty hands as he worriedly watched Mab's reaction. She seemed intrigued – maybe _too_ intrigued. From the queen's expression, he was afraid that she was more interested in simply _devouring_ Sarah than in healing her to use against Jareth. Shaking his head, he breathed an imperceptible curse, fearing he may have made the wrong decision, though it was his only choice. Hoggle felt the unfamiliar sensation of dampness at the corners of his eyes. He'd done it again. He'd failed Sarah…

* * *

The healer's lips twitched as he regarded the injured human woman before him. He was dressed in one of the stark, unfashionable white coats he'd seen the human healers wearing. A glamour had removed his markings and made him seem more – corporeal. He snorted at the thought of his latest task. He enjoyed serving the Sidhe Queen. It was a great honor, but to expend his energy on _healing_ a human. He wasn't even that familiar with human physiology. Belenus placed his hands on each temple of the woman on the bed before him. He could feel her life force fading. From the gossip he'd heard about the human, he was sure her strong will was the only reason her energy remained in the dimension. She would have to be brought to the Underground immediately.

* * *

 **A/N:  
** Unbeta'd due to schedule.

Thank you to all who reviewed. If you write, you know how much it helps move the story forward (and just generally brightens a writer's day)! Props to kittyspike08536, Honoria Granger, Jediavenger (love the name, btw), Princess of the Fae, Ebony-Dove

kittyspike08536: I know, I'm a loser - I took a summer internship that I really didn't expect to get. As the lowest-level corporate zombie, and considering the copious amounts of crying and wine consumption associated with said status, I will probably be updating once a week. Thank you so much for reading!


	4. You'd Better Hope and Pray

**You'd better hope and pray  
**

" _You'd better hope and pray that you make it safe  
back to your own world.  
You'd better hope and pray that you'll wake one day  
in your own world._

 _'Cause when you sleep at night they don't hear your cries  
in your own world.  
Only time will tell if you can break the spell  
back in your own world."_

Shakespeare's Sister, "Stay"

* * *

Sarah groaned in protest as she struggled for consciousness, eyelids intermittently fluttering open, then closing again as awareness floated just out of her reach. _Have to get up. Sure I'm late for something. Am I scheduled for the lab today?_ She fought through the mental haze and focused on moving her limbs slightly and keeping her eyes at least partially open. She vaguely remembered that she, Toby, and Karen had been on a train – something had gone wrong. She reasoned that she must be in a hospital. Her vision slowly focused on a squat, warty being in the corner. _Hoggle_. Sarah's eyes flew completely open in surprise as she sat up against the headboard. "Hoggle!" she gasped, eyes darting to the stone walls and the strange view outside the window. "Am I dead? Hoggle? Am I - am I where I think I am?"

Hoggle stepped forward in an attempt to comfort his friend as she stared wide-eyed and disbelieving at her surroundings. "He took me, didn't he?" she demanded. "No, he took Toby!" Sarah massaged her temples in confusion. Hoggle approached the bed and patted her arm in consolation. He tried to ignore her skittish jerk at the touch. "No, _he_ didn't take you, Sarah," he reassured her, knowing exactly which _he_ she'd meant. "Then he has Toby, and I have to win him back again?" she asked tentatively.

Hoggle stalled momentarily, staring down at the stone floor for courage. He sighed heavily and looked back up to face his friend. "Queen Maeve brought you to the Underground." Sarah stopped rubbing her temples and stared at Hoggle in confusion, attempting to process the new information. _Queen Maeve? Who the hell was that?_ "Why?" she asked pointedly. Hoggle grasped his leather cap and began kneading it in nervously in his fingers, staring down at the floor. "You were dyin'," he said resolutely… "and I asked her to."

Though she knew her experience in the Underground had been real, some part of her analytical mind rejected the idea that there was a fantastical world that existed somewhere out in the ether with elves, dwarfs, and fae. She shivered involuntarily at finding herself so stripped of control of her surroundings.

She grasped his gnarly wrist. "Tell me what happened," she all but commanded. The dwarf hesitantly explained about hearing her father in the mirror and enlisting Queen Maeve to heal her. Oh – the mirror. She suddenly felt ashamed of neglecting to call on her friends for so long. They just seemed to conflict so starkly with her current reality. It had been difficult to psychologically juggle the existence of the fairy tale creatures with the reality of her human relationships, the scientific nature of her studies, and a developed, adult human mind that required logical explanations.

Sarah ran her hands through her hair and pulled the dark, bedraggled mane to the back of her head in confusion and frustration. Her head was still somewhat fuzzy, and her stomach protested the lack of solid food, but the desire for answers superseded both sensations. "The king had nothin' to do with this, Sarah." The dwarf's abundant brows furrowed in frustration as he glanced down at the floor again. He hadn't had a choice…not really.

Sarah sighed and closed her eyes tightly, as if attempting to ward off a headache, which she was. She remembered how Hoggle had helped her, betrayed her, and yet seemed undyingly grateful when she had proclaimed them friends. He cared about her. He was trying to help her. She reminded herself of the danger he had faced in helping her – the Goblin King had bullied and threatened him, and would probably do the same if he found out about Hoggle's current heroics. Sarah opened her eyes and softened her expression as she regarded the warty little creature. He _was_ her friend.

"It's okay, Hoggle. You did fine. Thank you. I would have done the exact same thing in your situation." Sarah traced her fingers along her wrist, realizing she had no jewelry on her to give to him. "I'm sorry, Hoggle – I don't seem to have anything to give you.." Hoggle waved away the comment and gazed back up at Sarah, disappointment replaced with pride. "That's what I was thinkin' Sarah – that you wouldn't leave a friend." Sarah smiled. He really was an adorable little thing, even though he was probably the ugliest, most cantankerous being she'd ever encountered.

The bed suddenly seemed hot, itchy, and confining. Sarah threw the covers back and slid to sit on the edge of the bed. Hoggle immediately turned to face the door and covered his eyes. "Bog's breath! Cover yourself!" he barked. Sarah looked down and saw that she was wearing a basic white linen shift – similar to those she'd seen her grandmother wear. She told Hoggle as much, but he wouldn't budge. "It ain't proper for an unmarried dwarf to be alone with a woman that ain't rightly covered."

Sarah giggled to herself and rolled her eyes at the dwarf's prudishness, as she slipped back under the covers. "Fine, Hoggle. I'm completely covered, and I'm sorry for offending your delicate sensibilities." The dwarf snapped around to face Sarah. "For your information, they ain't delicate. I just got a sense of what's proper, that's all," he insisted. "Of course, Hoggle," she agreed with an amused grin. Sarah's stomach unleashed an irritable-sounding rumble, reminding her that basic needs were waiting to be met. "I really need to eat something. Any prospect of getting some food?" Hoggle blinked in realization. "O' course, Sarah. I'll get 'em to bring somethin' for you."

She suddenly recalled another answer she wanted – immediately. "Hoggle!" The dwarf turned. "What about Toby? Is he okay?" Hoggle's brows drooped in sadness. "I don't know, Sarah," he said softly as he turned back towards the door. "I only heard about you. Maeve only saw you in the crystal." Sarah leaned dejectedly against the headboard, inhaling and exhaling slowly. She would find out, even if she had to face this Queen Maeve, or even _him_. An unsurmountable feeling of sorrow washed over Sarah as she thought of her baby brother. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand as the tears began to fall. She would find out what happened. _Don't worry, Toby. I'm coming for you….I always will._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Maeve sauntered to the bedside, tilted her head, crossed her arms, and regarded Sarah as if she was a science experiment. The human woman was absolutely still, eyeing the queen with wariness and trepidation. Maeve chuckled. _Wise of her._ Seeing the human mostly healed and detached from the various tubes and wires that Maeve had seen in the crystal shard, she could somewhat understand her brother's attraction to the poor waif. Though her skin was somewhat darker than what Jareth usually preferred, the intensity and vibrancy of those emerald eyes was electrifying. Maeve hummed in thought. If she were younger, she might have been jealous of the human's features. Though the queen considered her own hair to be perfect in the iridescent, inky blackness that she'd inherited, she noted that the girl's hair was a lustrous dark brown. The perceptions that filled her fae senses communicated earth, air, and water. Maeve internally snorted. She was sure there was fire in there somewhere as well. Jareth had always been like a moth…

She could almost taste the girl's sense of justice, and considered her flawed in that respect. As all good rulers knew, at best, the lines were gray. If they appeared to be black or white, you were not considering all of the sides. It was obvious that this girl wore her beliefs, opinions, and feelings like a badge. A black, glittering eyebrow raised in thought. Perhaps the human's … _weaknesses_ would add to the entertainment when Jareth discovered her in his kingdom. She made a mental note to consider it.

Maeve's long, slim fingers rotated in a circular motion as she conjured a chair beside the bed, and gracefully sat down. A guard entered directly behind her and she waved him out, the door closing sharply behind him. "Sarah Williams," she intoned, "Now is when you should be kneeling to the ground in reverence so that you will not lose your pretty head." Sarah's brows furrowed in confusion. Maeve chuckled in amusement. "Since you are a human and so long parted from these lands, the lapse is….forgiven." The last word was not uttered in a forgiving tone. Maeve wanted to keep the upper hand with Sarah. The queen could tell that the girl had no training in politics and manipulation, but she might still have her uses.

"We are selective in the humans we heal and the humans we keep Underground. There is a place for workers, those who were wished away, those with great talent in a specific high-need area, such as human healing…"

"So - why am I here?" Sarah asked pointedly, knowing she might be entering a verbal minefield. The graceful, darkly-clothed being cocked her head, lips twisting into a devious grin. The crystalline voice responded, "An interesting question, I agree. Why _you,_ Sarah Williams?" A lacquered black fingernail tapped her blue lip in thought. "Why _you_?" Sarah held the gaze of the woman with the ungodly, piercing blue eyes, suppressing the urge to express her annoyance at the practice of answering a question with a question.

Quicker than lightening, Maeve reached a thin, elegant finger towards Sarah's face and dragged it against the scar that ran from her temple to the side of her mouth. "Did Belenus not heal you?" she asked, though she already felt the healer's energy on the human's skin. Sarah winced slightly, reaching up with her own hand to touch the scar, staring down at the blanket. "I asked him to leave this one," she nearly whispered, "as a reminder." The queen's lips twitched. She wondered if the girl could still attract the Goblin King's attentions with such a blemish.

Sarah glanced back up to meet the queen's hypnotics gaze. She decided that deference might prove to be a better tactic than demands at this point. "Please, your highness," she almost whispered. "Do you know what happened to my brother?"

Maeve stood perfectly still, piercing Sarah with her gaze. _A brother as well?_ She made another note to find out more about the sibling. "Sarah Williams," the monarch related majestically, standing as if issuing a proclamation. "You are hereby released into the care of Hoggle the dwarf, Keeper of His Majesty, the Goblin King's Labyrinth." Sarah looked at the fae monarch questioningly. Maeve chuckled. "In other words, my dear," she stated absently, adjusting her gloves, "It's time for you to leave."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Back in the surgery, Belenus corked a vile of purple, viscous liquid that had just finished fermenting. He had checked in on the human woman just as a tray of bread and broth had been brought to the room she occupied. Normally, he would have admonished a human for eating in his presence while he stood before them, especially in the capacity of a healer, but it was promising that the woman was craving solid food, and so he'd ignored the misstep – this time.

After ensuring that her body had properly and rapidly begun to heal, he'd begun to heal the various bruises and lacerations that covered her body. She had removed the shift stoically to allow him to heal the superficial injuries in the more _delicate_ areas. It wasn't necessary that he touch the injuries, but he did have to see them. He had mused that her appearance was quite pleasing for a human, and had been surprised when she would not allow him to heal the scar from the gash down the side of her face. "It's a reminder," she'd stated matter-of-factly, tentatively running a finger down the scar and wincing. "I'm not here for a beauty contest, and there are some things I don't want to forget."

Traditionalist that he was concerning matters between fae and humans, Belenus had to admit the woman seemed to be one of the brighter and more pleasant of the species. As he capped the remaining vials, he wondered if the woman possessed any talents that might prove helpful in the kingdom. Pity that Her Majesty seemed more interested in the amusement of knowing that the woman was living in Jareth's kingdom without his knowledge than in finding a position in which she could serve a functional purpose. Belenus knew he was unusual among his kind, being more concerned with practical application and logic than in politics, intrigue, and seduction. It was most likely the reason the Sidhe Queen had sought him out specifically for the post of royal healer. _Ah well, the right of royals and all that._ _None of my concern._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The king reclined shirtless on a cushioned bench on the balcony off of his rooms, enjoying the caressing coolness of the night air. He lay flat on the bench, one leg bent, one hand draped over the wine goblet on the stone floor. The conversation with Maeve had not gone well. She didn't know what to do about the putrid sickness that plagued the Underground any more than he did, or the Elves did – or anyone did for that matter. Thanks be to the goddess it hadn't reached the Goblin Kingdom.

Jareth raised up on his elbow and took a draught of the wine, then reclined back to gaze at the stars through wisps of blond hair. It seemed as if there were more of them tonight. More souls that had passed over. He mused that he was feeling excessively inebriated, which was unusual given his tolerance level. The stars always reminded him of the glinting resistance in a certain human girl's eyes. _She would have been a woman now._ As he did every night, Jareth relived the events that brought the young prince to his realm.

He had been dining with an Elven ruler when the protection spell had been activated. Without offering an explanation, the Goblin King had simply disappeared when the dessert wine was poured, leaving a bewildered Elven prince staring at a vacated, throne-like chair. It had been fortunate that the prince was a long-time friend of Jareth, and had simply finished his dessert, making note to ask the king about his disappearance at a later date. After all, the Elven prince was fiendishly fond of _Goblin Cellars_ wine.

Jareth had appeared in the moment before the train crashed; time had slowed to the point where he felt the impact beginning to warp the train. The boy had been lying on some sort of cot with wires coming from his ears. He'd had less than a second to act. The king saw the woman perched in the chair, reading. He only had time and energy to save one. He'd felt a stab of guilt as he turned violently in all directions looking for her…but he had not seen her, had not felt her energy nearby. The car began to slowly compress with the impact, the boy raising slightly on his cot, the woman looking up from her book. Jareth had grabbed Toby immediately, transporting them back to the castle and to safety.

The king felt the wine settle into his bones as he gazed back at the stars, moonlight glinting off his pointed canine teeth. When he'd questioned the boy, he'd learned that she _had_ been on the train. She _had_ been there, and he hadn't been able to save her, he hadn't been able to sense her….because he had no… He drew in a shuddering breath as he allowed himself one last image of the human girl who had ensnared him. _She would have been a woman now_. He imagined long, lustrous, russet locks spilling over his chest; soft, ivory fingers caressing his arms; fire-lit emerald eyes challenging him. Goddess, what her skin, her lips must feel like. The well of emotions felt too much like weakness. The king pushed his feelings, thoughts, hopes regarding Sarah Williams into a deep, dark oubliette. After all, anything he hoped or planned regarding Sarah – revenge, fondness…anything else, would never see fulfillment. Sarah was dead. He wouldn't think about his prince's sibling.

 **A/N:** _Always_ love the reviews, follows, and favs. K, back to real life, dammit.

Tried to stay consistent with "Maeve" vs "Mab." Curse that Shakespeare, Percy Bysshe, and any other British poets/playwrights for engraving her in my head.


	5. The Stars Look Very Different Today

"This is Major Tom to Ground Control  
I'm stepping through the door  
And I'm floating in a most peculiar way  
And the stars look very different today"

David Bowie, _Space Oddity_

* * *

Sarah had always loved mornings – they were filled with new hope and new possibilities, a semi-clean slate, so to speak. When night fell, the decisions of the day were made, regrets were remembered, and things were left undone and unspoken. Sarah did _not_ love this particular morning.

For one, the moment she'd awoken, she'd attempted to sit up, and her forehead had crashed into a wooden ceiling beam on the slanted ceiling of Hoggle's hovel. When she'd managed to extract herself from the tiny cot, she'd discovered that her muscles were excruciatingly sore. Then, she'd had to listen to Hoggle complain throughout their meager breakfast about having a female stay in his cottage overnight, and how the neighbors were sure to gossip. Finally, she'd realized she'd been sent from Queen Maeve's castle in nothing but the linen shift, and it was beginning to feel…stale. Oh, and she'd had to run behind the hovel and squat to relieve herself, as she refused to use the chamber pot Hoggle had provided – it just seemed…unsanitary. The unnerving conditions almost made her miss the mandatory camping trips her Dad used to take them on in the fall… that thought had stirred a sickening, dull ache in her stomach as she thought of her family.

She'd offered to clear up after breakfast, even though she knew she'd have to crouch slightly under the low roof to do it, and Hoggle had promptly left to locate some suitable clothes.

Sarah dumped the bucket of dirty dishwater out the kitchen window and slumped on the wooden table, head cradled in her hands. She hadn't realized Hoggle could be so bitchy. Really, her college friends were less bitchy. But then she remembered how he'd complained for most of the time she'd known him during their last adventure, right up until he'd finally accepted her friendship. Sarah groaned as she ran her hands down her face and rubbed her eyes. At least with Hoggle gone she had a moment's peace. Not that she didn't appreciate what he'd done for her. _My God, I think I would do bodily harm to someone for a cup of coffee right now._

She'd made polite conversation with him over breakfast, subtly digging for answers to her many questions, knowing the tactic would be more effective with the sensitive dwarf than a full-out interrogation. Apparently, she was back in the Goblin City, which raised her blood pressure slightly. The Goblin King had no knowledge of her presence, which lowered it back to somewhat normal. Hoggle didn't know if she could leave, though the Queen had seemed to indicate to him that she could not. He'd suggested that she ask the healer, as he would be visiting her in the next few days.

She traced a finger along the scar that ran down the side of her face. Home. She had to find Toby and get him home, even if she was stuck here. The real reminder loomed in shadows of her thoughts. _Everything you love can be taken from you in an instant._ She wondered how she should react to that. _Don't love? Love fully and deliberately? Live every moment? Burn the candle at both ends? Don't feel anything?_

An image of the Goblin King, resplendent in a white, feathered cape and ghostly grayish ensemble, somber expression on his face, offering a shimmering crystal appeared before her. _Love me._ She wondered what he had done after that moment, and if it had been love at all or just a targeted distraction for a goofy teenage girl. She remembered his expression immediately after she'd said the words, especially his eyes. There had been no mischief, no challenge, no light in them at all as he'd lofted the crystal into the air, his eyes never leaving her face.

The cottage door burst open and Sarah flinched in surprise as she stood and banged her head against the ceiling again. Hoggle trundled through the small door, slamming it closed with his foot. He dropped a mound of fabrics on a chair and proclaimed triumphantly, "Decent clothes," as if he'd conquered some insurmountable challenge. Sarah rubbed the top of her head and grinned at the dwarf. "Hoggle, you are amazing," she maintained, feeling that a little ego-stroking was in order.

Hoggle blushed and kicked at the stone floor. "It ain't nothin' for a friend, Sarah," he responded quietly. A realization seemed to take hold of the diminutive dwarf as he suddenly became very serious. He looked up at Sarah and stated with furrowed brows, "I was just told that His Majesty is plannin' a parade through the streets of the Goblin City this evenin' to keep the goblins in line and raise morale." Sarah was suddenly very interested. Did the being she remembered match the one that was? "You, little lady, can't be seen. Promise me, Sarah," he almost begged. She glanced up from pawing through the various items of clothing he'd dumped on the chair, hesitating for a moment. "Of course, Hoggle. I promise." she responded genuinely, her mind immediately running through all the ways she might be able to see and not be seen.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The young prince savagely tore off his gloves, hurling them to the floor as he sat heavily on the overstuffed couch in the Goblin King's study, crossing his arms and huffing in indignation. Unruly blond locks partially obscured one blue eye. "I hate those fucking dinners!" he roared.

Jareth smirked, recalling his own reaction to his first introduction to fae court politics. "Cursing in formal situations is a loss of control," he said matter-of-factly, allowing the boy to take in the information and reach his own conclusions.

"What weapons do you have, my prince?" he asked patiently, lounging against the ostentatious carved wooden desk and crossing his arms. Toby stared at the tapestry across the room and thought for a moment. "You…I have you," he stated, as if just pondering the fact for the first time. "And?" prodded Jareth. "I have goblins," his voice rose as a dimpled smile replaced the concentrated frown. Jareth smirked. "What else?" he prodded further. Toby's face lit up in a mischievous grin that his sister wouldn't even have recognized. "I have goblin magic," he proclaimed.

The Goblin King grinned in satisfaction as he turned to pour dark red wine from a carafe into a sparkling crystal goblet. "Indeed you do, young prince. You should remember that next time you find yourself in a den of snakes and scorpions." Toby nodded his head. _They were snakes and scorpions._

"Tobias," the king intoned questioningly, turning languidly to face his prince and grinning mischievously, "Have you ever ridden a large animal?"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sarah was finally alone again. She'd found a tolerably clean cream-colored chemise in the clothes Hoggle had brought, along with a woolen-looking green overdress that laced up the front. Sarah wasn't exactly a fashionista, but she wasn't thrilled about the choices. A pair of jeans, a t-shirt and flip-flops would have been perfectly acceptable. She shimmied herself into the shift that was too short and the overdress that was too tight, cursing archaic women's clothing. _My kingdom for a bra._

Hoggle had just left after adjusting his silk vest for the thousandth time, explaining that he was expected to be at the forefront of the crowds showing his undying loyalty to the Goblin King. Sarah had raised a dark eyebrow incredulously at the statement about loyalty, at which point Hoggle had explained that those were the Goblin King's exact words, not his, adding a few choice expletives that illustrated his thoughts about said loyalty. Sarah had pursed her lips, stifling her laughter at the dwarf's belligerence. She absently mused that it was the first time she'd felt genuinely happy since she'd been conscious, which led her to wonder how long she'd actually been in the Underground, and how worried her family must be. She'd tried to dispel the thoughts, and after a final promise that she would keep out of the king's sight, she'd seen Hoggle on his way.

Sarah was holding a worn, brown, wrinkled cloak between her forefinger and thumb when she heard the distant flutes and shouts. "Make way for the troop of the goblin horde!" A deep voice commanded. "Make way for his Majesty, the Goblin King!" She eyed the questionable cloak with disappointment; it bordered on disgusting, but she had nothing else to conceal her identity. The commanding voice and the accompanying flutes and trumpets became louder as the procession neared Hoggle's hovel. Sarah winced in revulsion as she threw the cape around her shoulders and tugged the hood down to cover her eyes. If her work in microbiology had taught her anything, it was that germs and bacteria were _everywhere_.

She pushed away the revolting thoughts and slipped out the door of the hovel, clandestinely positioning herself behind the other onlookers. The only problem was – she was noticeably taller than the citizens who crowded the main thoroughfare of the Goblin City. She panicked as the procession advanced closer, deciding that the only option was to crouch without appearing to crouch. She reasoned that darting back into the cottage at this point might draw unwanted attention. Her calves and thighs began to ache at the forced position.

The citizens around her, though short, didn't seem as "gobliny", if that was a word, as she'd assumed them to be. She observed them from under the safety of the hooded cloak. They were short, with gray or green-toned skin, but they weren't quite as warty as Hoggle or as wildly varied as the goblins she remembered from her last experience. It was almost like they were miniature humans with exaggerated features – large noses and lips, pudgy fingers, and child-like, enormous eyes.

Sarah glanced up stealthily as what she could only imagine must be "the goblin horde" came into view. She blinked several times in surprise as she watched the procession. These creatures were not short. Most of them seemed to be just shy of two meters tall, and their expressions and bodies varied greatly. No two were alike. They reminded her of "Where the Wild Things Are." They reminded her of "The Dark Crystal." They reminded her of every terrifying fairy tale or horror movie she'd ever seen.

Peeking from under the hood, she studied the bizarre specimen that was passing closest to her. The skin she could see was bright green, while most of the creature was concealed in spiky, gleaming armor. Its elongated nose extended from the confines of its helmet. Its red, piercing eyes briefly met hers as it passed the ranks of citizens crowded in front of her and grunted savagely. Sarah was sure she gasped involuntarily as she immediately averted her gaze to the ground. These were not the bumbling, laughable goblins she remembered.

The crowd sucked in a collective breath, as goblin children grasped their mother's skirts and buried their faces in the folds of the fabric. Some of the more brash members of the crowd let loose with spirited exclamations of "Dílseacht!" and "Huzzah!" professing their loyalty to the horde and their approval of the display.

She considered that perhaps she'd made a foolish decision, as her legs shook from crouching and from the exhaustion of the healing. A booming voice caused her jump slightly, peering back up at the procession from under her hood. "Make way for the Goblin King!" the voice commanded. She suddenly noticed the ground shaking slightly as the crowd began to murmur and exclaim at the advancing spectacle.

She couldn't help it – she had to look. Damn the consequences. She lifted her head as far as she dared, and shifted sideways to see between the onlookers. A shimmering, scaled, muscular leg appeared from behind a bend and tread heavily to the ground with authority and certainty. Guttural snorts and grunts vibrated through Sarah's chest as the rest of the creature appeared, occasionally darting its head at a member of the crowd, resulting in squeals and stifled screams.

The only description Sarah's experience could provide was _dragon_ , and that was only from what she'd read and seen in fantasy books and movies. Its head was covered in green and black metallic scales that glinted in the torchlight from the Goblin City and the rising moon. The long neck dived and swiveled according to the wishes of its master, who sat regally on the bulk of the body, in front of two substantial leathery wings, holding a sort of harness attached to the beast's face and neck.

Sarah dug her nails into her hands to keep from gasping like an idiot and revealing her face. She wondered if she weren't still unconscious or sleeping on the train, plagued by nightmares from a disagreeable lunch.

In a fit of curiosity she couldn't suppress, she raised her head even further to get a better view of the being that had toyed with her, forced her to play his game to retrieve her baby brother, and promised her the dreams that haunted her teenage psyche. She was sure the impression he'd been going for was "King" without question. He shone in black leather and metallic armor that flashed in the torchlight, cape billowing behind him. One boot was propped up at the base of the dragon's neck, as if guiding the beast was an effortless undertaking for the _king_. His expression was a mix of amusement and power, as he laughed mockingly at the onlookers who gasped and drew backwards.

Platinum wisps of hair whipped wildly in the breeze, accentuating his otherworldly features. Though she wasn't close enough to see, she knew the strange, hypnotic eyes would be gleaming with cruelty and self-importance. _You're him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King._ Sarah had to admit that the display was an effective device to remind the citizens of his status and power.

The citizens of the Goblin Kingdom kneeled as the dragon and their brazen ruler ambled through the city. She realized with dismay that she would have to force her aching leg muscles to kneel or risk discovery. Sarah held her breath as she shakily sank to one knee, still peeking out from under the cloak. What she saw next completely took her breath away. She grasped desperately at the dirt, as she stared open-mouthed at what followed behind him.

 _Behind him…behind him…behind him…_ Sarah's thoughts stuttered in a loop as she found herself unable to breathe. Behind him was her baby brother… on a _unicorn_. Her muscles gave up the fight as she slumped ungracefully backwards against the hovel, gazing up at the strange, colorful stars of the Underground. She breathed a silent prayer that she was still unconscious.

* * *

 **A/N:** _First_ and foremost, appreciation for the reviewers: kittyspike08536, Ebony-Dove, Honoria Granger, Guest

Did I make GK too fluffy in Chapter 4? Hmm…stay tuned. He may have felt guilty at that particular moment, but do really think that will last?

A pint of goblin ale to kefnotes, who alerted me to the fact that I had somehow deleted this story. I was actually attempting to update. So the moral is, kiddos, don't drink and post. Nothing good can come of it.


	6. Time is Running Out

" _Our time is running out  
And our time is running out  
You can't push it underground  
We can't stop it screaming out"_

Muse, Time is Running Out

* * *

The Goblin King exhaled slowly as he propped himself up on various sumptuous pillows that rested against the ornate wooden bed frame. He signaled the kitchen for his morning tea – a taste he had acquired from the human realm. For some reason, he had never been able to replicate the taste of freshly prepared tea with his natural powers. His platinum, feathery hair was uncharacteristically disheveled, his only clothing consisted of a sheet covering his middle, and he noted that a form was lying in the bed beside him. _Ancients, what did I consume last night?_

Jareth grimaced as he recalled that this sort of thing always seemed to happen after a parade of the troop of the goblin horde, or any show of his power really. He narrowed his eyes in curiosity, bringing the being into focus. Dark, silky locks spilled over the pillow beside him. An ivory shoulder emerged from under the covers as the being shifted slightly. Though she was facing away from him, he knew without a doubt that if she turned to face him and opened her eyes, they would be green. _Weak, ridiculous fool!_ He gingerly lifted the lower part of her leg off of him by the heel, waved slender fingers over the woman's form, and she disappeared. She would find herself back where she came from with only a dream-thread of memory surrounding last night's…events. He couldn't even remember her name or how he'd managed to find himself in this predicament. _Or, how the wench had managed to_ _ **place**_ _herself in this predicament._

There was a veritable laundry list of tasks before him, and he was not in a good mood. Perhaps he would introduce his protégé to the pleasures of the market this afternoon and exercise his energy with a bit of sword practice. That might improve his disposition. The boy had an uncanny ability to take the things that were so common and mundane to Jareth and reflect them back to him in a new light.

The parade had seemed to have the desired effect. The young prince had enjoyed the attention immensely and had comported himself rather royally. Jareth smiled with pride as he folded his arms behind his head. Young Tobias was becoming an excellent prince. Perhaps it was time for him to take a more active role in the workings of the Goblin Kingdom. The king sighed in contentment. It would be a great relief to have a trusted assistant.

He gazed out to the rising sun just appearing over the balcony, as he propped one knee up and sank even further back into the assemblage of pillows. There had been…something that had seemed out of place at some point along the parade route. He'd been so focused on creating the sensational effect with the dragon that he couldn't remember when he'd noticed it. He had sensed…a presence, though he hadn't been able to determine its exact location or nature, which was highly unusual. It could have been a fae or a stray being from another kingdom.

A knock on the heavy, wooden door aroused him from his thoughts. "Who?" the king commanded severely. "Morning tea, your Majesty," a familiar voice replied. The king shifted up on the pillows to receive the cup. "Enter," he charged, pushing away the errant thoughts of the mystery presence. He had been able to discern that the being did not have nefarious intent or even much power – after all, the parade itself surely displayed to whomever it was that he was the ultimate authority and seat of power in the Goblin Kingdom.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sarah perched at the tiny kitchen table, feet propped up on the short twin of the chair she was sitting on, hands curled appreciatively around a hot cup of tea. She began ticking off the facts in her mind, listlessly staring at the plaster patterns on Hoggle's plaster kitchen wall as he rushed around in a flurry of activity. "I'm telling you Hoggle, it was Toby," she insisted. "I know my own brother."

She piled her hair onto her head in a gesture of frustration and groaned, recalling the events of the previous evening. When she'd seen Toby on the unicorn, she'd simply collapsed in shock, her already taxed leg muscles stretched to the limit. When she'd managed to gather herself back onto her knees, Toby had been directly in front of her. She'd called out to him, and he'd met her gaze for a brief moment – then smiled and waved as he'd followed the Goblin King in the procession. She felt that there had been a spark of recognition. There had to be. _How long has it been? Did that psychopath do something to his memories?_

She'd wanted to storm the procession and remove him from the large animal. She'd wanted to push her muscles to catch up with the Goblin King and demand that he send both of them home. In the end, she'd realized that she was essentially powerless…at the moment. Sarah had decided the best course of action was to find out more information – _like what had happened to Toby, how the Goblin King had brought him Underground, and why he didn't instantly recognize her_.

"I know you're worried, Sarah," Hoggle's gruff voice reassured her as the dwarf stood on tiptoe to retrieve a mug from a cupboard. "If you say it's Toby, you know I ain't gonna doubt it." He stacked the mug, some rags, a canister of a tea-like concoction made from herbs, a wooden spoon, and a few other kitchen implements into a wooden crate as he spoke. "I'll find out – just don't go pokin' your nose around yet. It ain't safe for you to be seen – for you or me."

Sarah traced a finger around the rim of the cup, lost in her own mental diagram. _One – there was a train wreck. Two – I'm obviously back in the Goblin City. Three – the Goblin King doesn't know I'm here._

A cloud of dust erupted as Hoggle stacked a few blankets on top of the wooden crate. "You'll like the place I found, Sarah. I'll come by when I finish up in the Labyrinth, but the place'll be all yours." The dwarf's chest swelled with pride and self-satisfaction as he added a few other household items to the crate. "You're lucky they don't use the storage no more, since the workers was moved to the tents at the gates."

 _Four – somehow, he has Toby. Did he cause the incident on the train to take Toby - again? Did he save Toby?_ Sarah sighed, wishing for a stack of multi-colored sticky notes and a whiteboard. She mentally added those questions to a bright pink sticky note, to be answered as soon as possible. _Don't make assumptions, Sarah._ Karen had helped her to internalize that lesson.

 _Five – a dragon? Really?_ Sarah abruptly shivered and pushed the cup away as she realized where that thought was taking her wayward, technology and coffee-starved brain. _Mmmkay, Sarah, we left bad boy types behind after high school, remember?_ Apparently, she had never fully appreciated the effect of black leather and metallic armor set against a backdrop of dragon scales. There was something so… _primal_ about it. She blinked slowly as she remembered the shape of his muscular, leather-covered leg propped against the dragon's neck, his ethereal glowing hair and skin, and his hypnotic laugher… _power_. Sarah vigorously banished those thoughts. _He_ may have taken her brother…and his memories.

A few hours later, Sarah sat on a half-broken wooden chair in the middle of a large storeroom, eyeing the box of supplies Hoggle had left her. Hoggle had been wrong. She didn't like the place he'd found for her. It reeked of urine and mold. It reminded her of how much she loved bleach. Though there was plenty of room to stand and do pretty much whatever, it was disgusting. She much preferred Hoggle's diminutive little hovel. It wasn't perfect, but it was generally cleaner, which wasn't saying much.

Hoggle had explained (with great pride) that the building had originally been a storehouse for the tavern and then a barracks for the workers who were assigned to rebuild the castle wall – she'd winced at that revelation, given her participation in the destruction of the wall. Since many of the workers had been human, a sort of outhouse had been installed in back of the structure. The owner, who also owned the tavern in front of the storage building, was a great friend of Hoggle, and agreed to allow Sarah to stay there – for a price. A major deciding factor for Hoggle had been the fact that the building and the surrounding yard were not visible from any of the balconies on the castle.

Sarah twisted her hair into a makeshift up-do as she forced herself to get out of the chair and peruse the back yard. Dwelling on her poor housing conditions was not going to save her brother. _This isn't about you, Sarah._ She leaned against the back door frame and crossed her arms as she surveyed the back lot. She grimaced at the outhouse, and then noticed an abandoned herb garden in the far right corner of the yard. Her face lit up as she recognized some of the herbs – basil, coriander, hyssop, lavender – all of them had some sort of cleansing properties, as well as other uses. It wasn't quite bleach, but it would do. She made a beeline for the small herb garden with the intent of clearing some of the weeds and figuring out what she could harvest now for cleaning the storehouse.

That was how Belenus found her, on her knees, hunched over the small plot of herbs and weeds, furiously picking specimens and dividing them into piles. "Sarah Williams," he announced as she turned quickly, obviously startled, "It seems your new trade is herbalist." Sarah frowned at the healer. "I'm assuming you came through the storehouse. Did you happen to catch a whiff?"

The healer's brow furrowed in confusion. "Did you smell the odors in the storehouse?" she intoned, rephrasing the question. Belenus laughed heartily, an uncharacteristic and almost uncomfortable experience for the normally detached and reserved fae. Once he composed himself, the healer observed her work. "You intend to distill some of these herbs to clean the structure?" he asked. Sarah nodded resignedly. "It's all I've got. I'm thinking lavender will at least dispel the ungodly odor so I can sleep tonight." Belenus was silently impressed by her knowledge of herbs and their uses. But that was not why he had traversed the realms to appear in the Goblin Kingdom; and the sooner he was out of Jareth's range of sensing, the better.

"The Queen has sent me to check on your progress," he announced formally. "If you would accompany me inside," he motioned to the storehouse. Sarah squinched her nose at the thought of returning to the storehouse without the herbs, but stood resolutely and dusted her skirts to follow him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.—

The Goblin King paused in his sword practice with the prince as a familiar sensation tugged at the back of his spine. He held up a gloved hand, signaling the prince to cease practice. His unusual eyes stared into the ether and twitched as he heard the familiar call. Jareth smirked as he mentally commanded the goblins to take possession of the child. He and Toby would confront the wisher. What a perfect opportunity to introduce the prince to his new duties. Toby held his sword frozen in mid parry, one eyebrow raised, blond, sweaty mop of hair plastered to his forehead, eyeing the king in confusion. The wished-away was about to become the taker of children.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 **A/N:**

Always first, props to the reviewers! Thank you. It keeps me going.

 **ariella21** – thx, love your community crystal owl, found stuff I'd overlooked in browsing.  
 **Guest** – thx for reading and reviewing! I hope it lives up to your expectations.  
 **Sazzle76** – Right?! I still can't get that image out of my mind, though he would be a cool, smug git riding a miniature pony.  
 **Ebony-Dove** – I know, I think it's a character flaw of hers.  
 **RavennaAngelline** – (Ch4) My sister used to torture me with their music. Now, I recognize the _brilliance!_ Thx for reading and reviewing.  
 **goukagin** – (Chr) Thx for the review. Would love to hear more about what you think!

Before I commence any non-related rambling, Jareth and Sarah will meet again soon, either in the next chapter or the following chapter. Buckle your safety harnesses, folks. Also, please remove your hats and keep your arms and hands inside the vehicle at all times while the story is in progress. Un-spillable goblets and steins will be distributed by your smiling goblin ride attendants.

 **Non-related rambling:**

Hmmm… a friend PM'd me that my style of writing is more comic-oriented than most she's seen w/ Labyrinth…weird for me, since I'm not a comic fan. But then I thought about the other Laby fanfics I've read, and the majority (not _all_ ) are a little more twilight-esque. So, all of that just leaves me wondering…

Am I in the wrong fandom? Does the J/S saga not lend itself to the style I've employed?  
 _Will_ techsupport ever respond to a message? What do the f***ing ads on this site pay for anyway (this 90's UI and hosting can't cost that much – for the love of God, now we gots XML, Python, etc., etc.)?

Oh, you know what? I almost forgot that we all write this stuff for free, so…..enjoy…or don't. (crazy face – pours last glass of wine, cries a little about having to go to stupid internship tomorrow (glares murderously at clock) make that today …sniffle … _whatever… I wish the goblins would take me away, right after I finish this glass…_ )

Ohhhhh….I do apologize…challenging week


	7. I am Lost I Can't Even Remember My Name

There are so many things that I don't understand  
There's a world within in me that I cannot explain  
Many rooms to explore but the doors look the same  
I am lost I can't even remember my name

Daft Punk, Within

* * *

A slight wave of the Goblin King's gloved hand, and the practice swords disappeared. Toby straightened his back and shook out his hair as he felt his clothing shift to a replica of the Goblin King's dress battle regalia. He gazed up at Jareth questioningly, noticing that the king's lopsided grin and the glint in his strange eyes. A realization hit Toby as he reflexively tugged at the gloves, pulling them tighter down his hands. "A wish has been made," Toby stated, blue eyes sparkling mischievously, "and I'm going to confront the wisher."

Jareth's grin deepened as he turned his wrist and produced a crystal which relfected the image of a chubby, bald toddler in a dinosaur onesie being soothed and placated by the goblins in the throne room, his tiny tear-stained face vacillating between laughter and sobs as he regarded the strange, ridiculous beings around him. It never failed to amaze Toby that the goblins were so good with children. It had to be magic. Eventually, the toddler ceased sobbing and erupted in gurgling, toothless laughter, as one of the smaller goblins began playing a drum solo on the stainless steel pan that served as a helmet for one of the larger goblins, who promptly hurled the smaller goblin out the nearest window.

The prince gazed back up at Jareth. "And the wisher?" The crystal clouded over for a moment, eventually revealing a teenage girl who looked to be a few years older than Toby, being taunted by goblins as she attempted to swat at them with a small, silver, rectangular device.

"Shall we?" asked the king with an impish expression. Toby grinned and braced himself for the sensation of being transported. He was anticipating the encounter. He'd seen his uncle confront three wishers, only one of whom had succeeded in completing the labyrinth and recovering the child. He knew the goal – he knew what to say – he was ready for this. The fact that Jareth was allowing him to take the reins showed the king's faith in him.

Toby reflected on the impressive, imposing figure his uncle always cast in the uniform, and he was determined to show the same finesse. He could feel the edges of the oversized, imposing black leather collar framing his face. The black, glittering cape billowed around him as he reached down to touch the symbol of the Goblin King that hung on a chain over his chest armor. He knew without asking that his eyes now bore the same markings as his benefactor.

Suddenly, the king and the prince were no longer in the armory hall. Toby guessed they were in some sort of den or family room. Of course, the electricity was out. In the dim light of the lightning flashes, Toby could just see a large expanse of carpeted room, a beat-up leather sofa, a blanket with various toys spread across the floor, and the girl, who had ceased swatting at the goblins, and who was now staring at him open-mouthed.

The girl cowered in front of him, partially shielding her face from the sudden streaks of lightning, dark hair mussed and tangled, eyes wide with terror. "You…you're _real_?" she gasped, dropping her improvised "weapon." Toby tilted his head and smirked at the girl. Thankfully, the boots gave him just enough height to tower over her at least a few inches. They also gave him a remarkable feeling of power and a weird urge to strut around self-importantly. "Oh, yes," he replied silkily, "as real as the wish you just made." The Goblin King watched with interest from the shadows, leaning against the wall in a dark corner, unseen by the wisher. The girl fell to her knees at Toby's boots. "Please," she implored, pulling at her hair, "I didn't mean it! He just wouldn't shut up!" The girl collapsed in a sob. "Please give me back my brother." Toby absently noticed the small, rectangular silver device lying on the floor that the girl had brandished against the goblins. _iPod. Music_. The prince shook his head slightly as a memory washed over him.

"So you didn't _mean_ to wish away your brother to someone you'd never met? You didn't _mean_ to get him as far away from you as possible?" Toby stepped forward so that the girl was almost under his boots. Jareth stopped smirking. Toby's monologue was somewhat off-script. He wondered where this was going. _Is the little imp writing his own lines, or just improvising?_ He held back momentarily to see what Toby would do next.

Toby stared down at his nose at the girl who sat crumpled at his feet, feeling strangely vindicated, though he really didn't know why. He assumed it was because he couldn't imagine someone wanting to wish away their brother or sister. _How could you do that to someone you loved?_

The shadows shifted in the darkness, and he could tell the goblins were getting restless. The girl began to stutter. "I…no, I…I didn't want him gone." Toby rested his hands on his hips authoritatively as he replied, "Oh, you didn't?" The girl looked down at the carpet in shame, almost whispering, "I just wanted him to be quiet."

A name echoed in his thoughts. _Kaylee_. The prince sneered at the girl. "It looks like you got your wish," he drawled. "It's quiet." The girl stifled a sob as she gazed back up at Toby. "Where is he?" she pleaded, dark hair nearly covering her face. "You know very well where he is," Toby retorted. He flicked the cape behind him and crossed his arms, glaring down at the wisher. "Kaylee, go back to your music, your fan magazines, and your fairytales. Forget about the baby." Kaylee resolutely stood to face Toby, stubbornly wiping one eye. "I can't."

The king, who was listening in the shadows, leaned forward in anticipation. Protocol must be followed. _The gift…_

The prince lifted a black-gloved hand to her, a crystal appearing out of nowhere. He tilted his head and his expression immediately morphed from sneering disapproval to benign temptation. "I've brought you - a _gift_ ," he stated warmly. "If you turn it this way, and look into it, it will show you your dreams – but this isn't a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby." Toby waved the crystal closer to Kaylee's face. "Do you want it?" Secretly, he felt powerful and fearsome. No one had ever trembled in fear before him like this – that he could remember. The girl stared at the crystal as if hypnotized, finally tearing her gaze back up to Toby's face.

"I…please, I just want my brother back," she sniffled. The prince glowered at her and commanded "Don't defy me, Kaylee." He took one step backwards and launched the crystal at her chest, where it morphed into several over-sized, colorful butterflies that worried at her face and her hands. Kaylee gasped in surprise, and attempted to swat them away, as they morphed again into tiny goblins, pulling at her hair and screeching in laughter.

From the shadows, Jareth stifled a laugh. _Cheeky little git. Where did he come up with that one?_

Suddenly, the goblins scampered away into the darkness. "You're no match for me," Toby nearly hissed. He was drunk with a euphoric sense of power. The goblins, the wisher, the crystal – his to command. Toby snorted as he turned towards the window, which now displayed the burned oranges and reds of the hills beyond the goblin city, the castle gleaming in the background….

Thirteen hours later, Kaylee was returned to her home without her brother, without even a memory of her brother – just a strange, sad ache in the pit of her stomach that something was missing. Toby stared at her in disdain as he and the king transported from the den. _How could she be so weak?.._ He shook his head sadly as they appeared in the Goblin King's study to begin the real work – determining the best fit for little Bradley in the Underground.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sarah unwrapped the make-do scarf from her brow, wiped at the sweat that threatened to drip into her eyes, and slowly surveyed the storeroom. The cobwebs had been swatted from the rafters, the stone walls and floor had been wiped and washed down with the makeshift herbal cleaner, and the thatch bed frame had been smoked, de-loused, and infused with lavender. _Not bad, not bad at all, Sarah. Karen would completely in awe._ Sarah smiled wistfully as she thought of how her stepmother used to badger her about thoroughly cleaning the stove and sweeping after meals.

The conversation with Maeve's healer, Belenus, had not gone as well as she'd hoped. Apparently, under Maeve's direction, he could send her back to the human realm, but she wouldn't likely live for very long. She suspected he'd very nearly just disappeared in the midst of all of her questions.

" _So, you could send us back?"_

 _Belenus sighed patiently, his dark brows only slightly furrowed, though she could tell he was tired of the line of questioning, having completed his assessment of her health. "I am capable, yes," he replied matter-of-factly, crossing his arms and fixing her with a no-nonsense stare from under long, raven-hued bangs._

" _I sense a 'but'"- Sarah spouted._

 _Belenus raised an eyebrow, unfamiliar with the term._

" _It sounds like there are conditions – like everything here," she mumbled._

 _He considered her for a moment, smirking mirthlessly. "Sarah, you are a scientist in your world, yes?"_

 _She nodded._

" _As a scientist, would you agree that it's necessary to understand the…structure of a living thing to recreate it, or at the very least, repair it?"_

 _Sarah considered for a moment. The answer was obvious, of course. She thought back to her work in deconstructing microbial pathogens, following the mutations of viruses… "I would have to agree, but I still don't understand what that has to do with returning Toby and me to our home."_

 _The healer sighed patiently. "You were – extremely damaged when Maeve summoned me to return you. I could sense your life force leaving the dimension. You had perhaps a day in your world."_

 _Sarah shook her head, almost denying that she'd been so close to death. "But, you healed me," she insisted._

 _Belenus almost looked awkward as he continued his explanation. "Sarah, I am a fae – well, some Elven early on in the lineage, but – I am not familiar with human physiology." Had he actually looked apologetic?_

" _I – I don't understand," she replied._

" _I don't know human healing. I'm not familiar with your body's systems, tissues, the smallest components of you and how they fit together." The healer paused. "The best way I know to explain it is that I made your body work according to the laws and powers of this dimension."_

 _Sarah heard what she assumed were crickets chirping as she tried to understand his point._

" _So – I'm held together with magic?"_

 _Belenus rolled his eyes. "You are 'held together' by the physical laws of this dimension. I have absolutely no idea what would happen if you were to return to your own dimension, but I doubt that you would live."_

 _He turned to go, leaving her with a final thought. "From one scientist to another, Sarah, I wouldn't advise trying it."_

 _She followed him out into the tiny courtyard. "And Toby?" she pressed._

 _He did not look back as he responded. "Unless the boy has been altered, he would be fine."_

At least he'd agreed to try and locate a microscope for her. Apparently, fae senses were so super-amazing that they didn't need microscopes. She snorted, reminding herself that the _most important thing_ was to try to connect with Toby – and then to get him home. For now, she planned on trying to talk to him when the Goblin King wasn't around – to assess what he remembered and to jog any memories lose if possible. Once she knew his state of mind, she'd work on _how_ to get him back.

If she had to go to _him_ , she would, though she didn't want to. Their last meeting had just been too…ambiguous? Painful? One-sided? The thought of dealing with that was uncomfortable. Besides, the singular thought of just talking with him was somewhat unsettling, given the effect he apparently had on her now. _Dragon scales – what were they even made of?_ Screw the Goblin King. She would get her brother safely back home first. Then, she would do what she had to do to make a life here.

She huffed as she dropped to the table, eyeing the pint of goblin ale the tavern keeper had left for her. It was somewhat disgusting, but refreshing – and it did take the edge off. "Ughh!" she breathed as she downed a swallow and sank back into the chair. At least the stuff was so strong it was like a natural antiseptic. Sarah mulled over her situation. Even though she couldn't go back, she would make sure that Toby did. She wondered how her father and Karen were dealing with Toby's disappearance – and her disappearance, if they'd noticed.

She wondered if Karen had been injured in the crash, and remembered the dream she'd had about Karen in the field. _Had it been a dream?_ She took another swallow of the gut-burning ale. Of course it had been a dream – she didn't believe in ghost. Sarah nearly choked on the strong drink as she pondered that thought.

 _The chic who wished away her brother to the Goblin King, ran a labyrinth to get him back, and cheated death by returning to the magical Underground does not believe in ghosts. I should write a book. Maybe they could make it into a mini-series – The Supernatural Diary of Sarah Williams….or maybe it could be on one of those shows where they look for bigfoot or the chupacabra – the cast could get people to try to wish each other away. Sarah covered her mouth, nearly laughing out loud at the thought of millions of people being wished away at once. God, that would be worth being a fly on the wall in the king's throne room._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hoggle sat in a corner of the tavern, determined to drink his weight in goblin ale. He hadn't asked for things to be this way. He'd thought things had been coming along nicely with Sarah. He'd found her a nice home, she'd started growing the herbs to trade….but then today...

The dwarf groaned and dragged a gnarled, warty hand down his face as he'd thought about the events of the day. Sarah had insisted on helping him with some small jobs and cleaning around his house in exchange for his help. She'd hung auspicious herbs on his door overhangs and over his windows – she'd said they would keep the evil spirits out – he'd hoped she included the rat in the category of evil spirits. He'd accidentally mentioned that he'd been keeping a lookout for the putrid sickness that was plaguing other kingdoms, and of course, she'd pretty much demanded a lecture on everything he knew about the putrid sickness.

" _Is it a fungus? Some sort of bacteria?" she'd asked, refusing to drop the subject._

" _Well I don't know, do I?" he'd retorted._

It had all ended with his promising to get a sample from the Elven kingdom. Apparently, she'd managed to convince Maeve's healer to get her some kind of magical device that could help her see what the disgusting growth was made of.

Hoggle shook his head. If only it had ended there. Once he'd finished up in the Labyrinth, he'd had a nagging suspicion that Sarah had been up to no good, and he'd been right. When he'd returned to the city, he'd seen Sarah on a corner of the main thoroughfare, gazing at the castle, obviously trying to catch a glimpse of her brother.

She hadn't seen the king and the prince walking down a side lane towards the city center. He'd panicked, realizing it would be moments before they met. Hoggle had rushed towards the royal pair as quickly as his stout legs would carry him without seeming to be in a hurry. "Your Majesties," he'd nearly shouted, hoping that Sarah had taken the hint.

Jareth had grimaced down at him in disdain, demanding, "Why does it seem as of late that you are negligent in attending to your duties, Hogpen?" He had tried to look as if he'd been on urgent business. "Well, ah…your Majesty, it's just that I have to be on the lookout for the sickness – checking every passage way, I am. And, I needs some spray." Jareth had stood before him with a look of disgust on his smug face.

The king had turned to Toby and informed him "This useless lump of bogwaste is the keeper of labyrinth. Eventually, you will need to check behind him to ensure his is _fulfilling his purpose_." Hoggle had been right upset about that remark. He spent most all of his days keeping up the Labyrinth. It wasn't work – it was what he did.

The Goblin King had abruptly snatched one of Hoggle's ears, holding it in a painfully high position, as Hoggle stood on tiptoe to relive the pain. "Well?!" the king demanded. "I'm goin', I'm goin'" he'd replied, glancing back at the lane to ensure that Sarah had gone.

Hoggle took a long draught of his ale. Why had he thought an older Sarah would mean a more reasonable Sarah? Maybe he should ask permission to retire to the Elven kingdom countryside all by himself in a little hillside hovel, surrounded by the peace and quiet, several casks of goblin ale stored in a cave nearby. That was the stuff dreams were made of.

* * *

Thanks for the sanity check on the writing style and the reviews. Author commits to limiting unrelated ramblings...eeesh, sorry about that!

Sarah finally appears on J's radar in the next chapter (bcz she just can't stay away...sigh). Thx to tooralooryeaye for the sanity check on the plot


	8. The Chisel Chips My Heart Again

When I say that I don't care  
It really means my engine's breaking down  
The chisel chips my heart again  
The granite cracks beneath my skin  
I crumble into pieces on the ground

\- Elton John, _This Train Don't Stop There Anymore  
_

* * *

 _Market Day._ Sarah lounged on the stone wall in the small courtyard behind the tavern, legs dangling over the wall out from under the too-small overdress that barely passed her knees, sipping a mug of the herbal "coffee" concoction Hoggle had taught her to brew. It decidedly wasn't coffee. Unfortunately, she'd yet to discover a friendly corner coffee shop in the Goblin City. _Must be a shortfall on the part of its monarch._ Noticing the emerging halo of the suns burning off the pink shock of clouds, she closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet, earthy scent of the waking countryside. Sarah had to admit that mornings in the Goblin Kingdom were the most beautiful she'd ever seen.

Since she'd nearly been exposed the last time she tried to even _see_ Toby, she'd studied the ritual and flow of market day in the city, including the route of the king and Toby, when they deigned to appear. With the flurry of the market activity to conceal her movements, she'd decided that encountering him there was probably her best option. The king usually allowed Toby to browse the stalls on his own while he spoke with some of the citizens. Sarah sighed and flung the dregs of the mug onto the gravelly ground as she hopped off the wall. It frustrated her immensely that she couldn't just grab Toby and send him home. Even more frustrating and depressing was the lack of recognition in his eyes. She blew a stray wisp of hair from her face as she made her way back into the storehouse. From the commotion of voices and activity she heard coming from the market square, sellers were stocking the stalls and the townspeople had begun to gather and socialize. Typically, the king would make an appearance around mid-morning, if he showed up at all. That gave her about an hour to freshen up and mentally prepare – and come up with an excuse for Hoggle if he found her at the market.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.—

Toby ambled through the market stalls, grinning to himself, a large goblin guard following close behind him. The king had boring meetings all morning, and had agreed to let him go to the market alone – well, almost alone. He glanced back at Sir Bogwraith. The goblin was tall and imposing, and an excellent fighter, but he wasn't one of the smarter ones. Maybe he could lose the guard and do some real exploring. He absently fingered the dagger at his waist as his uncle had taught him to do, ensuring a weapon was always at the ready.

Citizens bowed to him as he passed. He recognized them with a nod, blond locks disobediently falling over his eyes. He really didn't notice the royal treatment much anymore. It had come to be – normal, expected. He hadn't really thought about his family much anymore either…except for the young woman. At the parade of the Goblin Horde, he'd seen a woman that resembled her, except for the nasty scar on the side of her face. She had called out to him, and he'd briefly thought – hoped. But it was impossible. Jareth had said they couldn't take care of him. How could she be here if she couldn't take care of him, not that he needed it. The prince pushed the thought away and concentrated on surveying the market wares.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.—

Sarah held the cloak together at her throat, ensuring that the hood did not reveal her entire face. It made the inside of the cloak nearly unbearably warm. Her hair was hot on her neck. She'd been lurking around the stalls for nearly an hour. The king and Toby usually made an appearance by now. She pretended to examine a necklace of intricate hammered metal knots as she surveyed the crowd in her peripheral vision. Maybe they weren't coming. Just as she was about to make her way back to the storehouse, she caught site of a shaggy blond head near the weapons stalls, and it wasn't the king.

Sarah gasped silently, her chest burning as hope and anxiety warred for control. What if he really didn't recognize her? What if he called for the king? What if…. _It doesn't matter. Nothing matters if I don't try._ Her green eyes flashed with resolve as she slowly approached the prince. This did not feel as if she was approaching her baby brother with the mischievous grin, earbuds permanently attached to his ears, a snarky comment at the ready.

She stopped a few meters away and took in the sight that was her brother from under the hood of the cloak. She had to admit that the king had turned him into an effective prince. She wanted to tousle his hair and insinuate that it was past time for a haircut. His blond mop reached past his chin to the end of his neck. _Karen would be having a raging fit._ Somehow, like the king, the wild hair only augmented the effect. He was dressed in a black, leather doublet with a blousy shirt of the same color underneath. A gold, embroidered replica of the king's pendant shone from the top right shoulder of the doublet. She knew from her time here that it signaled he was a member of a royal fae house. That caused a stab of sadness as she thought about her family. Black leather breeches and boots completed the ensemble. The boots gave him enough height so that she would nearly be eyeball to eyeball with him – a distinct disadvantage in her opinion. The rambunctious childishness that she had so much enjoyed in him seemed to be refined into keen curiosity. She wondered if she hadn't lost him. Without thinking, she reached a hand to trace the scar on her face – to remember. _Get him home. Nothing else matters._

Sarah shook off her musings and slowly advanced to the stall, pretending to admire the jewel-handled daggers. A large goblin who had been standing near Toby shifted closer and eyed her warily. Sarah grinned at the thought that the goblin had taken her job as babysitter. The stall owner was _clearly_ excited to have the prince browsing his wares, and kept showing him weapon after weapon, emphasizing the history or the value of each. Toby waved his hand in dismissal each time, showing signs of agitation with the vendor, who was currently displaying a gold-hilt sword before the prince.

Sarah sensed an "in" with a challenge to his ego – it had always worked in the past. She pretended an impressed gasp as the vendor turned the sword and ran a cloth down the double-edged blade. "Oh, you would have to be strong to wield that one, with all the gold on it," she stated to no one specifically. Toby turned towards the voice and raised an eyebrow. "You don't think I can handle this sword?" he quipped with amusement. Part of Sarah was relieved that they were finally talking. The other part was furtively scanning the crowds in case _he_ was near. She allowed the hood to fall back slightly as she turned towards him and cocked her head somewhat in a challenge. "Of course I wouldn't think that, your Grace. Though, it really looks like a king's sword to me, with all of the precious metals and stones."

Toby stared at the woman, expressionless for a moment, feeling the tug of some thought or memory at the back of his mind. Instinctively, he wanted to show the woman that he could wield the sword, maybe "accidentally" nicking her stupid worn cloak in the process. How dare she? Her voice brought him back to the present. "Toby, don't you remember me?" she asked gently, knowing she didn't have long, and that this might be her only chance.

Toby's eyes narrowed as he took a step forward and looked directly into the woman's face. _The woman from the parade. Scarface._ He remembered that she reminded him of another woman, a woman without a scar, and whose face didn't wear such a worried expression. The prince grinned as he crossed his arms and leaned back on one leg.

You're the one who called me 'Toby' on the parade route," he stated emphatically. He turned his head to the side in curiosity. "Why did you call me that?" Sarah shook her head slightly at the gesture that reminded her so vividly of the Goblin King.

She met Toby's gaze, speaking lowly but firmly, so that the guard and the vendor could not hear. "I called you that because that's what I've always called you – what Dad and Karen, what your friends have always called you. It's your name. It always has been." She mused that it wouldn't be long before he was looking down at her, even without the boots.

His blue eyes flashed some sort of recognition as memories assaulted him.

 _He was pulling on the ears of a shaggy white and black dog. The dark-haired woman who was much younger at the time, slapped his hand away, and he let loose with a frustrated cry. "Merlin is my dog, not yours, Toby!"_

 _He was lying in the grass in the backyard – he'd been in a fight and his parents had "grounded" him. The young woman had stood over him, her face upside-down above his, green eyes gleaming with malice. "You going to let those creeps get away with that?" A plate of cookies appeared beside him as she plopped on the grass. "I've got a plan," she'd announced with a grin. "They won't know what hit them. And don't worry – Dad and Karen won't have a clue."_

 _The train swayed back and forth as he jumped out of the booth and hurried towards the passage to the connected car. He laughed as he heard Sarah Slowly – his new name for her - trying to keep up with him. By the time she reached him, he would be in his room. "Toby!" she'd called insistently as he'd pushed the release to the compartment door._

Sarah watched as Toby's expression changed from amusement to surprised recognition, to something she didn't recognize. He grabbed her elbow roughly and led her to the side of the stall, slightly down an alley, his lumbering guard following behind. Finally releasing her, he stood purposefully in her way of escape. "You're _her_ , aren't you," he nearly hissed. "You are my family and you didn't even let me know." Sarah inhaled slowly, reminding herself to proceed with caution, that Toby may not remember everything, and that he had considerably more powerful resources than she had at the moment. It felt strange to be at her brother's mercy.

"Toby," she almost pleaded. "I – I was so worried. I woke up in the Underground after the accident, and found out that you were with the Goblin King." She fought the tears that she'd refused to shed, reaching out to grab his arms. The guard was beside them directly, and Toby waved him away. "How did you wind up with him?" she questioned gently. "He's…well, he does things that – well, they just aren't entirely right, or fair."

Toby thought back to the sadness he'd experienced when he first arrived. "He's like a father to me," he stated with finality. Sarah closed and opened her eyes slowly, attempting to control her emotions. "He is not your father. Robert Williams is _our_ father. You and Dad used to go to hockey games. You wanted to be an EMT. You liked fruit loops and lasagna and pizza and Pokemon, and embarrassing the hell out of your older sister!"

Sarah hesitated as she noticed a shadow fall over Toby's shorter form, and it wasn't the goblin guard. _Shit_. She pulled the hooded cloak closer around her neck, attempting to shield her face.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jareth felt the sensation again. Another's power – very weak, and not of his kingdom. He allowed the tendrils of foreign energy to draw him to its source as he dismissed the head guards. This time, he would not be distracted. The young prince was alone at the market – anything could happen, given the political instability in the Underground.

In short order, he found himself striding down the main thoroughfare towards the source of the energy. He noticed Tobias and the guard standing by a weapons stall. _Straight for the weapons – I've taught him well._ As he approached his prince, he noticed an unassuming figure speaking with them. He slowed his steps and observed, wondering if this being could be the source of the power. As he took the last steps that allowed him to get close enough to hear their conversation, he froze. That voice…He marched straight to the cloaked figure and snatched down the hood.

One blue eye and its dilated twin met with the savage green eyes for the first time in over ten human years. His gaze was immediately drawn to the fierce, ragged scar that claimed the side of her face. _The power – it was healing power – but how?_ Part of him wanted urgently to embrace her violently to assure himself that she was indeed alive, and then to remove the offensive blemish from her face. The other part of him, the part that still felt the sting of her rejection, internally railed against her appearance in _his_ kingdom without his knowledge, railed at the fact that he could have saved her himself if she hadn't been so stubborn and ignorant.

The realization of where he was brought him back to the present, as his head snapped towards the prince. "Go back to the castle," he demanded. Toby opened his mouth to rebut, but thought better of it when he saw the expression on his guardian's face. He glanced from the woman who he thought must be his sister to the king – obviously there was a lot more going on here than he realized. He knew his uncle wouldn't hurt her, so he turned abruptly and headed back towards the castle with more questions than he'd had when he'd first arrived. The last thing he saw as he turned was the king motioning in circles towards Sarah as she disappeared.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.—

She was suddenly in a garden. Was the garden within the labyrinth? She couldn't tell, until she'd turned almost all the way around and saw the massive gray stone castle wall looming over an ivy-covered wall. Initially, she was a little panicked, almost like when she'd been discovered pinching a breakfast slider from a faculty reception when she was undergraduate. She'd known it was wrong, known the delectable morsel wasn't meant for her, but God, she'd been hungry, subsisting on raisins and bagels for weeks. _This is different. I didn't choose this. Someone else chose for me, against my will_. After persuading herself that it wouldn't do any good to slip out of the garden anyway, she'd simply stood up straight, crossed her arms, and awaited whatever hellish confrontation he planned for her – she was absolutely certain after his reaction that it would be hellish, or something close to it.

 _No, it hadn't been your choice. It was Hoggle's_. She winced at the thought, reluctant to divulge the dwarf's role in her reappearance, as it once again created a blurry line around his loyalty to the king. _Eeesh…_ She longed for her petri dishes of bacteria that didn't bounce from emotion to emotion, or make decisions for her.

Suddenly, he appeared in front of her, facing the fountain, back towards her. "What.. _are_ … _ **you**_ …doing… **here**?" he ground out, lean back muscles tensed in obvious irritation. Sarah blinked a few times at the palpable anger in his voice and swallowed, inhaling slowly. _Courage over fear, Sarah_. "Someone brought me here because I was dying," she stated simply, attempting to keep any emotion from betraying her thoughts or fueling his anger. _Just say it – he can deal with it the way he wants to. It's not my fault._

He didn't respond immediately, though Sarah thought she saw his arms stiffen.

"You know, Sarah," he finally spoke, "Toby is excellent with the children. It's actually a surprise, given your…history." Jareth turned to face her, a baiting grin on his face. "I was quite impressed with his ability to answer the call of the human wishers. Why, he just recently procured a new addition to the Elven kingdom – a tiny chap about the size he was when he first visited."

"He _what?"_ she demanded, hoarsely. This time it was Sarah who turned her back to the king, buying a few moments to think without betraying the terror and anger she felt. The king tilted his head with a mocking grin. "Does that disturb you, Sarah? That Tobias has taken on the task of responding to the thoughtless wishes of those who do not care to deal with their responsibilities?" Sarah's lips curled into a near snarl as she turned back to face him. _If he were only human, I would…._ "What a way you have with words," she replied dismissively, "but the fact remains that Toby was _not_ wished away this time."

"No, Sarah," he replied in a serious tone, "he wasn't wished away – _this_ time." His strange eyes bored into hers as he took a step forward and met her gaze with intensity, making her somewhat uncomfortable. "He was saved from death." Though her mouth opened slightly, Sarah was momentarily speechless, falling back to her previous thoughts about how the Goblin King had brought Toby back to the Goblin City. _Had he saved Toby? …_

"W – what do you mean," she finally stuttered, brows furrowed in confusion. Jareth shook his head slightly and sneered, frustrated at her refusal to admit that he had no ill intent when it came to the lad. His eyes narrowed at her as he turned and paced to the fountain, staring into its depths. He did not owe her an explanation. In fact, he didn't owe her anything. _She_ was the one who should be grateful – grateful that he'd taken her brother when asked, grateful that he'd returned him, grateful that Tobias was alive. _By the goddess, she should be grateful she is alive_. He couldn't decide if _he_ was, his true feelings still securely imprisoned in an oubliette. He mentally kicked the seal on the opening to ensure the locks were holding.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Waves crashed relentlessly against the rocky shore as the small gathering of beings on the ancient hill retreated to the center of a circle of weathered monoliths. Nearly every type of being from the Underground was represented, with the exception of the dwarves. A few tall, lithe human-like figures eyed the large, misshapen, troll warily, who sneered with a mouth full of sharp, rotted teeth in return. A shadowy female figure hovered near one of the stones which was visible through her fair skin and dark robes. Just as the last being entered the circle, a dark-haired fae male leapt effortlessly onto a small boulder and surveyed the group with a silver-eyed stare, meeting the eyes of each being until the circle was quiet. He stood confidently on the boulder, legs slightly apart, a ceremonial sword dangling at his side. His crossed arms were covered with silvery knot markings, from his shoulders under his black leather doublet to his wrists. The other beings watched him as if entranced.

"Her Majesty recognizes all who join here in showing fealty to the Tuatha Dé," the fae announced to the small gathering, crossing his arms. A few of the beings nodded in return, some signing near-forgotten displays of allegiance. "As you know, the sickness has been released, and the rulers begin to petition the Queen for assistance." The troll snorted – his kingdom had been the first affected by the blight. "The next step will require us to use our resources in the human realm. All of you were summoned here because of your human connections or personas. Her Majesty requires certain high-profile resources." The fae paused, expressionless, allowing the information to sink in. "Listen carefully to the following instructions," the entrancing voice droned.


	9. My Kingdom Come

So they dug your grave and the masquerade  
Will come calling out at the mess you made

Don't want to let you down but I am hell bound  
Though this is all for you don't want to hide the truth

No matter what we breed we still are made of greed  
This is my kingdom come; This is my kingdom come

 **Demons, Imagine Dragons**

* * *

The ivy leaves rustled in the garden against the castle wall…..

"You know very well what I mean," the king nearly spat, hands on his hips, tilting his head. "If I had not _saved_ him, he would have perished with his mother. You are welcome, Sarah. You didn't even have to bother with a _wish_." Sarah's eyes widened, and she brought a hand to her mouth as she processed his words. It was a blow she hadn't allowed herself to consider seriously, though she'd known it was a possibility.

"Karen," she whispered, willing herself not to lose it in front of him. Of all the ways to find out. Why did it have to be _him_?

 _Don't think about it. Don't think, don't think, don't think.._

Her gaze darted around the garden, anywhere but to his eyes, because she knew they would see right through her. "I..I just thought," she stuttered. "You took him before – I know, I asked, and he's here now…and there was the accident…and…" she trailed off, grasping for threads of logic. Karen was dead. She was in shock. She'd had to deal with way too many changes, and now this. _Stay in shock for now_. Sarah stared at the fountain behind him, eyes blank, as she willed herself to fight the rolling tide of grief that was threatening to consume her. Her life, her work, was gone. Karen was gone. Toby couldn't remember anything, his mother was dead, and her father – their father had to be all alone. He would sick with grief and worry.

Jareth's amulet flashed at her in the sunlight. She glanced towards his face. His hair seemed as if it was surrounded by a halo, iridescent in the late morning sun. "Thought seems to have somewhat incapacitated you," he quipped, his expression giving away nothing. He reminded her of an angel of death. A sinfully beautiful, enticing angel of death.

 _Don't think. Don't think…_ But that was like when someone said "Don't think about penguins," or, "Is that guy stuffing his pants?" Tendrils of horrible thoughts began to snake through her mind – wondering if it had been quick or horribly painful, wondering if Toby would have suffered the same fate, and she suddenly felt as if she was on a plane that had just dropped about five hundred feet in turbulence. She sank to her knees with the weight of it all. "Oh, Toby.." she moaned, raking her hands through her hair as if she intended to rip it out, the first tear trailing down her face.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jareth sighed as he gazed down at Sarah in her grief-stricken state. His arms itched to surround her, comfort her. His mind ranted at her rejection all those years ago. His ego smirked in satisfaction. He could tell the girl was in shock. He himself had been in shock when he'd stared down into those haunting green eyes. It had angered him that he'd had to take a moment to collect himself after he'd sent Toby back to the castle and Sarah to the garden.

She was here, in his kingdom, clothed in some goddess-awful secondhand goblin dress that was clearly too short and too big, crying for the woman whom she'd hated ten years ago – or, maybe it wasn't for the woman but for the same child for whom she'd risked life and limb the first time. Jareth shook his head in disbelief. He had thought her dead. Apparently, Sarah Williams lacked the capacity to lose, or die. It was like having a poultice ripped off a wound that hadn't healed. She looked pitiful. He wasn't _completely_ cruel…though he did want to be right now. He shuddered involuntarily. Oh, how he did.

He closed the distance between them in two, long, slow strides, and lowered himself so he could see her face. A tear darted down her cheek, interrupted by the puckering outline of the scar, following the line of the scar to her chin. Her eyes were focused on the ground.

Since she was seemingly beyond conversation, he decided to find out the source of the power that was in her. He slowly removed a glove, and brought a slim, pale finger to her scar. Sarah jerked back, opening her eyes to see the Goblin King's face, just a few inches from her own, his mouth a thin angry line, strange eyes glinting with malice. " _Belenus!_ " he hissed. Sarah shook her head slowly. "Maeve," she corrected softly.

Jareth stood abruptly. _She wouldn't. She couldn't. How could she even know_? A sudden wind rustled through the ivy as Jareth felt his sister's energy surround and then leave the garden. _Bloody woman._ He gazed back down at Sarah, stating firmly, "You will address her as Her Royal Highness, Queen of the Sidhe."

He impatiently tugged the glove back on his hand and roared, "Higlet!" Hoggle appeared suddenly beside the king posed as if he had been on a ladder, about to snip a wayward twig. Startled, he nearly fell forward attempting to gather himself, sputtering, "your Majesty." Jareth lifted Hoggle by the back of his vest, bringing the dwarf up to face him. "I suspect, dear Higlet, that you know _exactly_ where Miss Williams has been _hiding,"_ he ground out. Hoggle's feet were moving in desperation to feel the ground that wasn't under him. "Take her there at once and see to her needs. Two goblin guards will accompany you to ensure she stays there until I decide otherwise. Is that _**clear**_?" _**My**_ _kingdom…_ _ **My**_ _rules…._

Jareth sneered at the dwarf. He'd probably been hiding her all this time. Well, now he'd have to play nursemaid. The dwarf nearly went limp in acquiescence. "Y..yes, your Majesty," he replied, glancing down at Sarah. He released the dwarf's vest, and Hoggle landed in a heap on the gravel path of the garden. "Sarah," he stated firmly. "This conversation is not over."

Sarah glanced up at Jareth with a dead expression, face tear-stained but resolved. "Perish the thought," she replied sarcastically, chuckling at her own response. She watched him storm away as he morphed into an owl and took to the air, following his trail until he was a tiny dot that disappeared in the sky of the Underground.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Robert glanced through the folder to prepare for his next consultation. Apparently, the client was claiming breach of contract for several different situations, all involving _barely_ legal claims. He sighed resolutely and pressed the page button on the phone. "Please send in Mr. Fitzpatrick," he stated professionally. "Yes, Mr. Williams," came Cara's lilting reply. He rolled his eyes at her saccharine tone of voice. He couldn't seem to find a secretary that wasn't expecting a marriage proposal as part of the job.

He glanced around at the boxes in his office – not ideal, but progress was often messy. He'd opened his own firm about six months after Karen's death. He had distracted himself with multiple lawsuits on behalf of victims of the train crash (including his wife and children), and his partners had accused him of being caught up in his own grief, and not acting in the best interests of the firm. So, he'd struck out on his own, taking about a fourth of the client base with him. Unfortunately, being a new firm, he was not quite able to be very selective about clients. After all, there was the overhead, Sarah's medical bills, his personal search for his son after they'd called off the official search. Robert's brows furrowed. He would never, never, never give up on Toby. His ex-partners could go fuck themselves – none of them had gone through what Robert had gone through in the past year.

He caught a glance of himself in the glare of the high rise window and wondered if Karen would recognize him now. His formerly dark hair was now peppered with white and sporting white streaks at both of his temples. The contours of his face were hard, angular, and lean. He never felt much like eating. Besides, who was there to eat with but brainless call girls or Liv, begging him to find someone else, to exorcise his grief. He didn't want to. It was a powerful motivator. It kept him surging forward.

The click of the door opening broke his train of thought, as he rose to greet the potential client. A dark-haired man who looked to be about Robert's age strode confidently into his office and extended a hand towards Robert. "Mr. Williams," he stated, shaking his hand vigorously. Robert met the man's silver-colored eyes. "Mr. Fitzpatrick," he replied, indicating a seat. "Please," stated the potential client as he seated himself, "call me Cian."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jareth's boots clicked ominously as he entered the court chamber. He bypassed everyone who was in line to speak with the Queen, coming nose-to-nose with her advisor at the door to the inner chamber, where Maeve held court. "I will see her – NOW," he commanded.

* * *

 **A/N: A short chapter. Just wanted you all to know that I haven't given up on this. The end of 2016 brought a terrible tragedy to my family. I'm getting back to it…. slowly.**

 **#survived2016…..just**


	10. Something I Can Never Have

_In this place it seems like such a shame  
Though it all looks different now,  
I know it's still the same  
Everywhere I look you're all I see  
Just a fading fucking reminder of who I used to be_

-Nine Inch Nails, "Something I Can Never Have"

* * *

"Your Majesty. She holds private court," the advisor informed him curtly, as if that should be the end of it, planting himself firmly in front of the great wooden door to the inner chamber, stretching his neck as if to gain any height possible over the irascible Goblin King. If Jareth could have transported into the chamber, he would have, but Maeve had wisely kept the room warded against teleportation. Jareth leaned menacingly into the advisor's face, thin lips curled in a sneer, eyes flashing with malice. "Now!" he roared, slamming a gloved fist against the thick wood just shy of the poor fae's head. The advisor, who was familiar with the queen's brother and his mercurial moods, stepped back against the door just as it opened, causing him to stumble to the floor in the inner chamber. Jareth stalked into the chamber, glaring at the throne's occupant. The advisor raised himself and tentatively skittered past Jareth back to the outer court.

Inwardly, Maeve smirked. Outwardly, she maintained a formal composure, slowly turning to face Jareth from the raised dais. She'd felt the notification spell activate the moment the two had come within a meter of each other. She'd witnessed the entire "reunion" in a crystal shard, and oh how entertaining it had been…entertaining, and _informative_. She had never seen such mixed emotions on her brother's face as when he'd looked down at Sara when she crumpled to the ground in grief.

One of the fae nobles who had obviously been in conversation with the queen, sneered at Jareth. "Majesty, this is most irregular," he complained, the others nodding at the sentiment. Maeve's blue lips twitched despite her efforts to hide her amusement. _Oh goody, a cock fight_. Jareth eyed the fae derisively, "You have _no_ idea just how _irregular_ this is, Kheelan," he retorted. "Perhaps Her Royal Highness would care to explain how this _irregularity_ has come to pass." He glared back at his sister, who had propped an elbow on one arm of the throne, chin resting in her hand. Though seeing Jareth and Kheelan spar was entertaining, she had no doubt that Jareth had a weapon hidden somewhere on his person, knowing it was forbidden in the court chambers, and that Kheelan most likely did not. No amusement was worth bloodshed and discord in the kingdom, especially when her plans depended on peace in the Underground at the moment.

Maeve noted the stark contrast between the formally-dressed nobles in their colorful silk brocade and Jareth's dark leather ensemble. She shook her head slightly at her brother, knowing he had purposefully over and under-dressed for the occasion. She settled her black silk-gloved hands in her lap, her glowing eyes smiled benignly at the noble fae. "Lord Coolavin," she stated, her voice sounding both commanding and evocative of tinkling crystals, soothing the insulted noble. "We extend our apologies for this _unfortunate_ interruption on behalf of the Goblin Kingdom." Jareth rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. She eyed him in warning while continuing her speech. He was already on thin ice. "We regret that we must end our session for today. You will all stay and dine with me this evening." The nobles exchanged glances, seemingly placated at the royal invite. Kheelan, Lord Coolavin, who seemed to be their unofficial leader, bowed deeply, hand on his heart in the show of fealty. "You are most generous, Your Highness," he relented. Each of nobles bowed and made a show of fealty. The queen nodded in dismissal. Maeve noted that Kheelan looked as if he was going to bump into Jareth, then veered slightly as he saw the king's hand purposefully reach in back of him, where daggers were often secreted. The last noble exited, and the door closed itself behind him. Maeve sighed heavily at her brother. Had he unsheathed the dagger in this room, she would have had no choice but to sentence him to the fade…

Jareth planted himself directly in front of Maeve. His brows furrowed as he glared up at her through unruly blond wisps of hair. His voice was low and controlled. "There is a human woman in my kingdom who claims you are responsible for her appearance." He paused as he attempted to control his emotions. She might be his sister, but she was foremost his sovereign. "Care to explain?"

Maeve sank back into the throne, smiling, throwing one leg over the arm carelessly. Her inky, black locks uncoiled themselves from the circlet, and she tapped her blue lips as if in thought. "Oh yes," she replied thoughtfully. "I do seem to remember being made aware of the poor girl's plight." Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned against the dais. "Let's not play games, Maeve. Send her back."

The Sidhe Queen released a slight "hmmmmm," as a goblet appeared in her slender hand. "I _could_ do that, I suppose, but you do know that she will die within minutes of leaving the Underground." She kicked her leg languidly as she took a sip of the wine, smiling into the goblet. His response would tell her all she needed to know about how useful the girl could be.

"How did you know she was in danger?" he asked after a few moment's pause, knowing his interest might give away too much information. _How could Maeve have sensed her when he couldn't? Why had she even bothered? Surely human suffering was far beneath her notice, unless…..Higlet!_ Maeve rested the goblet on one knee and looked at her brother thoughtfully. "A little goblin told me," she smiled, her markings sparkling with mirth. Jareth snorted. "You should know, brother, she was within moments of death when I first saw her." Jareth kicked off the dais angrily and turned to face Maeve again. "Then why send her to my kingdom? She's not my responsibility. You didn't even inform me. She could have presented a danger to my kingdom."

It was Maeve's turn to snort. "Oh dear brother, if the wreck of a human I first encountered could present a danger to your kingdom, then you _are_ the weakest link in our armor." _Useful – the girl would definitely be useful._

Jareth grimaced. "You test me, dear sister. She is not welcome in my kingdom, and I owe her no protection."

"Now Jareth," she chided him. "I'm sure you will think of _something_ to do with her. Perhaps have her run your Labyrinth again for your adopted prince."

 _So she knew that as well. Fuck. He also did not fail to note the other innuendo…..it had been on his mind._

"By the way" she added, "Belenus has brought the little thing some type of human contraption to study small organisms." One brow raised in amusement. "Apparently, she wants to study the putrid sickness. I dare say you are in for exciting times," she quipped, raising her glass to her mouth.

Jareth was seething. He had to leave before he said or did something that earned him banishment….or worse. He made an almost imperceptible bow, just missing his heart in signing fealty, as he turned to storm out of the inner chamber, calling over his shoulder, "Don't be expecting any additional gratuitous shipments of wine from the Goblin Kingdom. So sorry, my liege, the supplies – they _dwindle_ , the workers are _difficult_. I'm sure you understand."

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"Sarah," the dwarf's gravelly voice pleaded, "You ain't going to get better if you don't eat." He held out a bowl of some kind of stew for the fifth time in the last few minutes. Sarah smiled weakly at him from the bed, propped against extra pillows he'd brought to make her comfortable, her hair piled in a messy up-do, bags visibly punctuating her eyes. She felt as if she had a monster hangover. "Hoggle, we discussed this. I'm not sick. I'm just sad – I'm grieving, for Karen, for Toby, for my father, for me." Hoggle set the stew on a side table as he considered for a moment. "You should probably add me to your list then." Sarah chuckled. "Yes, you're probably right," she mused, considering the Goblin King's reaction at their last encounter. She grasped his warty hand. "I'm so sorry, Hoggle. I didn't mean to cause you trouble." Hoggle sighed, clasping his free hand over hers. "It was Hoggle's choice. I'd do it again," he stated resolutely. "Oh, and Sarah," he stated excitedly, releasing her hand and sliding off the chair, indicating the sleek, white, black, and chrome instrument on the kitchen table. "The healer brought the human scope thing." _The microscope…._

That was the day after Jareth had banished her to the storehouse until further notice. Hoggle brought food and supplies for the next few days, stayed and chatted for a while, and left for his duties. The goblin guards wouldn't even allow her to take her "coffee" out on the wall of the back lot, as she was accustomed to do. "King's orders," they always responded, blocking her way.

After a few days of moping about the storehouse, she began to feel restless. The initial shock of the grief had worn off, and she began to find purpose again. _Get Toby home, find your place here_. She eyed the microscope. For the last couple of days, she hadn't felt like thinking too deeply. Everything had still been a muddled mess in her head. _I wonder why he hasn't come back to continue our "conversation?"_ She ran her hands over the microscope. Since she was so unfamiliar with the construction of the putrid sickness, she'd been afraid to try an electron microscope or a phase-contrast microscope, opting instead for the basic compound microscope. _Start with the structure._ She began experimenting with ways of providing light sources. Hoggle had promised to bring the sample soon.

She had to admit, even though she'd seen the Goblin King since she'd been brought here, speaking with him face-to-face had been another kind of shock altogether. It had been painful and awkward, and further drove home to her how isolated she was in this world, and how completely she'd been torn from everything she'd known. If it weren't for that, she'd been ready all along to chalk all of it up to a fever-induced dream. She wanted to talk to him again, and she didn't. He was such a prick, and so beautiful. And the last words she had heard from his mouth spoken directly to her had been, "Fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave…"

 _How am I ever going to make this work?_

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 **A/N:** Remember mes amis, edit drunk, write _sober_ ; or, is it the other way round.

Props to reviewers:

ariella21: Thx, coming out of the other side

Sazzle76: Thank you! If you have insight or comments into the potential, would love to hear it.

annibale: Thank you, and thanks for reading!

xSeraphinexLightx: a better 2017 to us all. Thanks for reading!

Jediavenger: Thanks so much (still love the name)

tooralooryeaye: Thanks for the encouragement. Pet Czar for me! (and update _Snow_ , dammit! ;-)

Guest: I hope the new year is kind to you and yours as well, my friend. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

LiteraryRhapsody: It got into my head. Sarah will totally go "code" before the end.


	11. Sparks of Light

_We are all sparks of light_

 _We are sparks of light but we hide it_

Exitmusic, "Sparks of Light

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Jareth swung the sword hard from the left, meeting the prince's parry with the grating sound of metal on metal. He grinned at the prince, and shifted position to try a different tactic. He knew he was being hard on the boy. He couldn't help himself, his frustrations with Maeve, the putrid sickness, Sarah – _especially_ Sarah, demanded resolution or at least a target.

He'd met with the rulers of four of the other kingdoms today, and observed the devastation caused by the putrid sickness. He smirked, recalling the expressions on the other rulers' faces when he'd arrived on his dragon, Camulus. Half had been admiring, some lustfully so; the other half had rolled their eyes and expressed irritation at the display. It never hurt to remind them of his…. capabilities.

He'd stopped smiling when he'd seen the mass of ashen piles the "sickness" had left in its wake. Apparently, if any being or plant life under one-hundred years old was infected, the creature or plant would very quickly – within a matter of days – deteriorate to an ash-like state. Those beings and plant life under about one-hundred years old did not currently show symptoms. No one had explanations. Their efforts at controlling the environment and what they knew about the sickness seemed to slow it down, but they could not stop it altogether.

A small part of the Goblin Kingdom bordered the Elven kingdom. It just so happened, the sickness had appeared very near the border. Jareth wanted to threaten the Elven king into containing it, but he knew – he _knew_ , Erlik had no idea what to do, and threats would not solve it. Besides, Erlik's son was his favorite companion.

The swords clanged deafeningly as Toby flinched, feeling the full force of the blow from Jareth's attack. "Ow! Dammit!" he cried in frustration, dropping the sword as waves of pain coursed up his arm from his wrist. _No parry position would have worked against that._ The king stepped back and pointed the practice sword at the prince. "Pick it up," he motioned at the sword. "Any sensible opponent would have run you through by now." Toby rubbed his arm, seething. He reached down to pick up the sword, pausing when he rose. He silently repeated the mantra his uncle had taught him when he became frustrated at sword practice. _Be patient. Be humble – that one made him laugh. Learn from those who are more skilled than you._ He was exhausted, sweat was trickling down every surface of his body, and the king wasn't even winded, or sweating. "Something's bothering you," Toby stated tentatively, leaving the sword hanging at his side.

His Uncle had seemed to have pixies up his ass ever since Scarface, his sister, or whoever she was had showed up, and he wouldn't talk about it. The Goblin King slashed at the air and glared at Toby. "So you presume to know my mind?" he asked severely. Toby smirked to himself. The king was angry that his emotions were so obvious, that much he could tell. Suddenly, the king's lithe form lunged forward to attack, a blur of black and white. Before Toby could register the move entirely, he parried and attacked with a riposte, forcing Jareth's sword to move away from his upper torso. This time the king smirked, clearly pleased with his move. Toby's heart was pounding. "Aren't you supposed to warn me to be on guard?" he asked incredulously. Jareth grinned and lazily swung his sword in circles. "If we were playing for _points_ , yes," he drawled, "but we are practicing how to avoid being killed."

Suddenly, the king shivered and stared off into space, eyes focused intently on nothing Toby could see. It couldn't be a wish – Toby felt the wisher's calls now just as Jareth did, and was the primary one responsible for answering them. "What is it?" Toby questioned, brow furrowed in concern. "A wisher?" The king spent another moment in a pose of intense concentration, and then seemed to return to the moment, glaring back at Toby, his jaws tensed in anger. "No," he replied, "it's something much more dangerous." He eyed Toby's exhausted state and held his hand out for the prince's sword. "Enough. Off to get cleaned up. We have guests for dinner. I will deal with this."

Toby groaned, already hearing the boring, monotonous dinner conversation drone on in his head. _"I hear Lord FancyAss of the blah blah kingdom has been seen in the Elven kingdom on a number of occasions with a certain royal advisor."_ _Queue nauseating laughter._ Maybe he should jump out of a window before 'd probably just land on a goblin. Jareth handed off the swords to an attendant and headed for the main hall. "Uncle!" he nearly shouted as he remembered what he'd wanted to ask him earlier. Jareth turned towards Toby, one brow raised. "Is she ok? Can I talk to her?"

Toby thought he saw some expression pass over the king's face, but he couldn't be sure. Jareth just stared at him for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before finally answering. "Yes, she is well. And you can see her when you strike a killing blow in practice." Then, he turned and walked out to the great hall. _Well, then_. With nothing else to keep his attention, he suddenly became aware of the smell of his clothes and the sweat cooling rapidly against his skin. Another memory assaulted him – they seemed to come in waves.

 _He had been wearing some kind of lightweight, black shirt and shorts, with long socks and tightly-laced shoes "We won," he'd yelled triumphantly, launching himself into the air, and at his fellow teammates. A blond woman was running toward him, and he nearly tackled her in return. "We won!" he announced to the woman, grabbing a black and white ball, and kicking it as hard as he could. The woman smiled and laughed warmly. "Six goals! You were amazing, son!" she gushed, hugging him. "Even though you smell like a barnyard." He'd laughed at her comment._

He sniffed at the billowy shirt. _Yep, definitely barnyard._ He headed towards the stairs, boots clicking in the empty hall – then he felt it. The sharp tug at the base of his spine. He felt a cold, tingling sensation as he was suddenly clean and dressed in the regalia of the Goblin Kingdom. His blond, curly locks fell over one eye as he conjured a crystal and gazed into it, grinning. _Damn shame I'm going to miss dinner._

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Sarah was admiring the pants she'd stitched together from some of the clothes Hoggle had left when the stocky dwarf barged through the door, holding out a stick with a cloth sack tied to the end, his expression somewhat panicked. "I got your sample, Sarah! Take it - now!" he nearly screeched, pointing the stick at her, as if to get it as far away from him as possible. "Don't know why I let you talk me into this. Stuff sucks the life out of ya." Sarah shot him a withering glance, set down the pants and began to remove the bag from the end of the stick.

As she nimbly untied the bag, she had to admit she felt a shudder of excitement – excitement that she hadn't felt since working on her research project. "That's it," she said softly, carefully coaxing the locked box from the makeshift bag and setting it reverently on the table. "Sarah, you _do_ know what you're doin, don't you?" Hoggle asked plaintively. "I mean, this stuff is killin' trees and trolls. There ain't no tellin' what it could do to you…or me." His heavy brows were knitted with worry. He looked absolutely terrified – even more than when they had encountered Jareth when escaping from the oubliette all those years ago. She grinned at him, pulling her dark hair up and securing it out of the way. "Relax, Hoggle. This is what I do – what I did, anyway, everyday."

Though she itched to get the sample under the microscope, she needed to know some specifics about the putrid sickness, and Hoggle was her only current source. Drawing on the knowledge of her college friends, and how they always opened up after a few beers, she treated him to a pint of ale. She could almost imagine she and her friends were at their favorite dive…. Of course, he had to retrieve it from the tavern, since she was still confined to the storehouse. He deserved at least that for getting the sample.

Hoggle nervously eyed the box as he gulped his ale. "So Hoggle, based on what you've seen and heard, does this stuff grow on things and look kind of plant-like, or does it look a stain, spreading out of itself, or can you even see it?" Over the next several minutes, Hoggle spilled everything he knew about the putrid sickness to Sarah, figuring he'd already warranted bogging for bringing the thing into the kingdom, if Jareth found out. Somehow, Jareth seemed to find out everything. The guards had seen him bring in the bag. He should have been more careful. _Oh well_. He turned up his ale. _One last drink…_

Hoggle had left abruptly after she'd asked for the key. Sarah changed into the pants she'd stitched together and cut the shift to resemble a tank top. "Thank god," she thought to herself, at the feeling of being in comfortable clothes. She'd would still have looked homeless in her world – she'd never learned to sew, but it felt sooo much better. She convinced herself she _was_ being careful, even though she knew she didn't have the proper equipment.

She was wearing gloves, and she'd tied a heavy material cut from one of Hoggle's blankets over her mouth and nose. There wasn't much she could do for her eyes – there were no goggles, of course. She would just have to be careful, and anticipate possible contamination, maybe spores or endospores…

Sarah took the two plates she'd cut from broken glass she'd stored away for just such an occasion, pulled the see-through shift material over the box and reached for the key. It was the best she could do. From her understanding, if something wasn't done, all the kingdoms of the Underground would eventually suffer the effects of this organism, whatever it was. Subconsciously, she reached for her iPod as she usually did while she was working in the lab. _Right_. _Only I'm not in the lab, and I'll probably never see an iPod again._

She held her breath as she cut away a part of the sample and encased it in the plates. She cautiously transferred the sample under another part of the torn shift that she'd secured around the microscope – she could almost hear her microbiology professor screaming at her with a slight Hindi lilt. It _was_ a poor excuse for safety equipment, but it was all she had. She carefully fixed the plates under the clips and shifted the candles she was using to illuminate the sample. After adjusting the focus knobs, she realized it was going to be difficult to determine the difference between the structure of the sample and the putrid sickness, unless she knew what the original sample had been.

"What…are…you… _doing?"_ a familiar voice behind her drawled. Sarah sat up abruptly, automatically being careful not to topple the microscope or disturb the sample. She sucked in a slow breath as she slowly turned on the stool to see the Goblin King, propped in a corner of the room, arms crossed, surveying her judiciously from under escaped wisps of hair as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't be doing….again.

Sarah huffed. She was tired of his overbearing attitude. She wasn't a teenager shoplifting her favorite merchandise. She met his gaze and crossed her arms as well. "I'm trying to help figure out what this 'putrid sickness' is that seems to be plaguing the Underground. His thin lips pursed as he pushed off the wall and closed the distance between them. When he reached her stool, she noticed she was staring straight at his amulet, where his shirt was open. She couldn't help but notice that his skin resembled alabaster or unpolished marble. She looked up to meet his gaze again.

"Sarah, I have the distinct impression you are 'hell-bent', as they say, on destroying my kingdom," he stated, without emotion, staring at her accusingly with his strange eyes. "Your Majesty," she stated, "I'm just trying to help," she implored. "Actually, this is what I do – did, back in my world, before the…train wreck." She thought she saw his jaw tense when she mentioned the wreck. Though she held his gaze, she was very conscious of his presence, his smooth chest, his tight, black pants and severe boots. _Don't even go there, Sarah. Not him. He's not for you, and anyway, he's treating you like you're twelve._

The Goblin King tapped his lips as he held her gaze. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, and guessed that she should prepare herself for a royal tantrum. He glanced down at the microscope, then back to Sarah. Finally, he spoke. "What do you see?" he asked, gesturing towards the equipment. Sarah was incredulous. _Really? The great Goblin King wants to know what I see in the microscope?_ She shifted off of the stool, and motioned for him to look in the eyepiece. "I don't know what the normal structure of organisms from the Underground looks like," she explained as he peered into the eyepiece. "So, I need someone to help me with that, but I did see something that made no sense, based on what I know of bacteria where I come from."

The king huffed as he peered through the long, black tube. "Oh," Sarah interjected, remembering the difficulty in getting oriented to the eyepiece. "Close one eye," she instructed, as she began slowly manipulating the focus knobs. "Tell me when it's clearer." She couldn't help but brush against his arm as she adjusted the knobs, and his hair tickled the side of her face, almost making her laugh, which, she decided, she should probably _not_ do at this moment. "I see _something_ ," he stated unenthusiastically, looking up at Sarah. "It's like nothing I've ever seen, your Majesty. It _looks_ like bacteria…it _behaves_ like bacteria." Sarah paused and looked to the side as if thinking to herself, "but I _swear_ it looks like they have a nucleus."

Jareth gazed back up at her, brows furrowed, eyes intense. " _Explain_ ," he commanded.

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"The Goblin King will join us when it's necessary," she stated in an assuring voice, crystalline tone echoing throughout the chamber. "How do you know?" Silver Eyes questioned, massaging her hand tentatively, her dark nails nails extracting slightly as he applied pressure to her palm. Maeve chuckled and shivered, continuing to allow his actions. "There is a new game piece on the board, and he likes it very much," she smiled, leaning back against the chaise.

 **A/N:** Props to the reviewers: Sazzle76, Jediavenger, Lyn79, annibale, Zuzubirds


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